Crash Crash Burn
by Lyonene
Summary: Beau not only has to deal with the pressure from her famous father but as well as attention from her boss, while trying to establish herself in the biz. On top of all that, her personal life gets a bit complicated when she develops a rather intense relationship with a coworker. Ft. CM Punk/OC, 'Taker/OC, Shane McMahon and Kane.
1. Tough Love

**A/N:** This would be the challenge fic I've been saying I'm going to eventually do and here we go! Written for JvottoG and I'm not even explaining the challenge since she knows what it is and I'd rather everyone else just come along for the ride.

** Disclaimer/Warning:** I own absolutely nothing except maybe Beau, and a dash of the plot, most of it was provided for me. As with any of my stories, expect a bunch of violence, horrible language and non-con. This is also my first story where CM Punk gets featured in a lead, romantic role (he usually gets regulated to the secondary character/villian, poor guy) so... we'll see how that goes. He's been on my Muse list for awhile, bugging me about getting the lead eventually so here we are!

**Summary/Characters:** Beau not only has to deal with the pressure from her famous father but as well as unwanted attentions from her boss. On top of all that, her personal life gets a bit complicated when she develops a rather quick, intense relationship with one of her co-workers. Featuring: The Undertaker, CM Punk, John Cena, Kane, and Shane McMahon.**  
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**1: Tough Love**

Isabeau Calaway would have had an easier time training if her dad wasn't standing outside the ring with his arms folded over his chest, scrutinizing her every move. She and her bestie –John Cena- were sparring in the ring. He had been helping her with her strength training and working her out of the 'girly moves' the Divas tended to utilize. She was almost getting fairly good, but her dad –the fucking Undertaker- tended to make her nervous.

"Dad, go away!" She ordered when she caught him shaking his head and wound up getting her own almost knocked off her neck. She lay flat on the canvas, glaring up at John who merely shrugged. She was supposed to duck and counter, not be looking the other way and getting her neck and skull separated. "Ouch…"

"That's what happens when you don't pay attention, Isabeau." Mark said flatly, shaking his head when she raised one arm up off the mat for the sole purpose of flipping him off. This ring wasn't a playground or a joke and he would be damned if his daughter of all people treated it that way. She had grown up knowing better and sometimes he wondered if maybe there wasn't too much of her mother's carefree, hippy ways in her, not liking that.

John just sighed resignedly, knowing Calaway wasn't going anywhere or even listening to his daughter. Their sparring usually went flawless when Mark wasn't there to criticize so the man always tended to miss Beau's finer moments, of which she had plenty. She was a natural in the ring, just like her old man, but he was the only one so far who seemed to be missing that. If anything, he kept pushing her harder and harder, basically making Beau feel like shit. Which wasn't cool, not in John's book.

"Come on Beau, you can do this." He said, holding out a hand to help her up. He was trying to ignore Mark but it was a bit hard considering the man's status in the company. Actually, just Mark in general was hard to ignore. His physical stature pretty much demanded attention and then there was the aura he exuded, that wasn't something a lot of people ignored either. "You okay?"

Beau loved her dad, at least she kept telling herself she did, but they conflicted a lot. He tended to be a bit stern, cold even, with her and she was figuring it had to do with the fact of who he was and she had gone against his wishes and jumped into the business. She had definitely embarrassed him by working the Indies and TNA before approaching the WWE, on her own terms and hopefully without having to rely on her name and pedigree since she now had a resume under her belt.

She had his temper, hers was easier to provoke though, and she generally exploded. Like about now…

"GLENN, MAKE HIM GO AWAY!" She bellowed, ignoring John's hand and rolled to her feet, turning to stare down at her godfather. Glenn was like her second dad, only way nicer. "He's making me nervous on purpose!"

"You do make her nervous, Mark." Glenn pointed out before adding in an undertone: "You know you do." Actually, Mark tended to make her feel not good enough, not that HE was mentioning that.

"What would happen if I was in that ring and it was me she had to work with?" Mark demanded, arching a cool eyebrow when Glenn just stood there, staring at him obviously bewildered. Yes, the idea of him and Beau squaring off was laughable, but what if. "Exactly my point, now get busy Isabeau. You wanted to me in this damn business and you're not getting cut a break just because you're my damn kid."

That was when Beau began hollering a lot of obscenities at him, obviously not appreciating his great parental words of encouragement.

"That's no way to act in front of your peers, lil darlin'." Now he was being sarcastic, cutting her verbally.

John groaned when Beau completely lost her temper, taking a step forward to place a calming hand on her shoulder only to wind up lying on the mat. "Nice body slam…" He groaned, rubbing the back of his head gingerly.

That was when Mark climbed into the ring, anger radiating from his every pore as he stood to tower over his daughter. She may have inherited his height and stood just over six foot, but it was his sheer presence that cowered most. Most. Isabeau had zero fear of him and stood toe to toe with him, her hazel-green eyes exact mirrors of his own, both spitting venom. "Get. Out." He ordered in a harsh whisper.

Beau stood there a moment longer, having flashbacks of getting her ass paddled and wondered if he would attempt to try it now. It had been years since he had turned her over his knee and she was an adult, but somehow, she wouldn't put it past him. Deciding to press her luck, she ignored her father and crouched down by John. "You alright?" She asked, checking his eyes.

Seeing the steam coming from Mark's now bright red ears, Glenn slid into the ring, just to keep things level if need be.

"Peachy, though right now I'm seeing three of you, Bobo." John blinked, seeing three Beau's frowning at the use of a very much hated nickname. He slowly sat up; smiling to let her know it was alright as everything came back in focus. More importantly, her obviously pissed off daddy. He got to his feet and winked to let her know he was alright.

"You about done with the ring?"

All four of them turned to find Phil –CM Punk- Brooks coming down the rampway, obviously wanting to use the ring to train as he was wearing a pair of black workout shorts and a tee shirt, his usually slicked back hair all over the place.

John was not the biggest CM Punk fan and looked at Beau.

Beau simply shrugged.

"Yeah Brooks, it's all yours." Mark said, making the decision for them all, ignoring Beau's incredulous look and simply rolled out of the ring alongside Glenn.

"Thanks Deadman." Phil glanced over his shoulder at his current on-screen opponent who was trailing slowly after him. "Come on, Randall." He smirked when he got a growl in return.

"Call me that again, Brooks, and it'll be the last time you speak."

Knowing this round went to her dad, Beau slipped through the ropes and dropped down to the floor, groaning when John did the same and draped his arm casually around her shoulders, nudging him. "I hate it when you do that."

"You injured me girl, the least you can do is lug my ass backstage."

Now she felt a bit guilty, though she also knew he was teasing her, on top of being pissed off. Beau nodded to Phil and Randy as they passed by; pretty sure her cheeks were as red as her hair at this point. When she got pissed, annoyed, or anything really, her cheeks turned red. That she had gotten from her mother. "I'll get you some ice for your head." She offered as they walked up the ramp, hanging back a bit so they weren't walking with Mark and Glenn.

Randy, who had by this point, gotten into the ring, turned when he realized his choreograph partner hadn't. He frowned when he seen Phil standing with one hand on a rope as if to pull himself up, staring up at the ramp at the retreating people. "Brooks, let's go."

Shaking his head, Phil gave Randy his attention, not about to let the other man know he had been watching Isabeau Calaway. No one had ever said it but she was obviously off-limits, there wasn't a single person backstage who didn't know who her legendary father was. Of course, Phil generally didn't care about what was allowed and what wasn't. That was a trait that tended to get him into trouble with his bosses, a lot.

Beau was six foot and maybe an inch or so with dark red hair that she kept at shoulder length instead of insanely long as was the current fashion. Her eyes were practically identical to her father's in color though the shape she must've gotten from her mother because they were wide, almond shaped eyes and generally sparkling with amusement. Not today though. She was pale, which from his understanding, Mark was too when he wasn't going the fake-bake route, though she did not share her father's adoration for tattoos because he hadn't seen one hint of ink on her. Not that she might not have had one in a place not displayed for the public…

"I'm glad I'm not your kid, man, you're harsh." Glenn laughed, glancing back at Beau and John, his gaze moving past them to Phil who was now in the ring, obviously not listening to a word Randy said, his gaze firmly fastened on Beau's back, or ass, Glenn wasn't entirely sure nor did he care. "Brooks, eyes on your boyfriend!" He called out, a bit annoyed now.

Phil snorted and turned, groaning when he seen Randy giving him a look that clearly told him he was about to get hurt.

"What the hell do you mean I'm harsh?" Mark demanded, ignoring Glenn's other remark to Brooks, pushing through the curtains. "She needs to learn that this business isn't all fun and games. If she can't handle the training then she's not going to be able to handle working here. This isn't TNA, we're not pushovers."

John winced at that, knowing Beau was a bit… proud, of her previous associations.

Now THAT was insulting. Beau was damn proud of what she had done in TNA, even though she had only done a six month contract. She had worked with Mick Foley, Kurt Angle, Victoria, all greats in her book. Not to mention AJ Styles, who she adored and had learned quite a bit from. She knew what her dad's opinion of the Indies was and if he even breathed one word, she was going to take out his weak spots: his knees and hip. She had loved working the Indies, having worked quite a bit with Scott –Raven- Levy, which had been just entertaining as hell.

The point was, her dear old pops basically made her feel like dirt for not working the 'big leagues' until now and the WWE, quite frankly, was filled with way too much bullshit and not enough emphasis on the women.

"I'll call up with you, Cenana, I got some things to do before the show." She muttered, pushing right past Glenn and Mark, ignoring their grunts as she stormed down the hallway. Cigarette. Nicotine. Cigarette. Nicotine. She kept repeating it over and over.

"Don't say it, Jacobs." Mark growled, holding up a hand before his friend could start in on how he treated his daughter. When they weren't in the arenas, they got along… sort of. Okay, overall, their relationship probably needed an overhaul. Ever since she had decided she wanted to be a wrestler, their relationship had been strained and it had not been helped when she decided the WWE was not where she wanted to begin her career. That had been a bit of a slap in his face. If his daughter HAD to get into this godforsaken –how he loved it- business, then damn it, she was going to start out properly. Instead she had gone against all his wishes and headed south to be trained by who the hell even knew.

She sent him regular postcards and called him periodically, mostly to let him know she hadn't dropped off the face of the earth but the conversations were always stilted. He was pissed off with her and she wasn't overly pleased with his attitude towards the way she had gone about things.

He had followed her career through the independent circuits via dirt sheets and thanks to Glenn, the Internet. He had half expected her to use some sort of name or gimmick that would link her to him but she hadn't. She had totally ignored her famous father's identity and what it could do for her career and set about forging her own.

One part of him had been proud of her for that and the other offended. Like his name wasn't good enough for her? She hated him that damn much that not only had she felt the need to completely blow off the WWE –he knew Vince would have jumped at the idea of the Undertaker's daughter joining the company- but she was also totally ignoring the legacy he had built and was damn proud of. A legacy she was automatically a part of simply because she was his daughter.

Glenn just bit his tongue, not saying a word. He liked his head right where it was.


	2. It's the Truth

**2: It's the Truth**

The rest of the night, Isabeau did her best to keep clear of Mark, knowing she was slotted for ten minutes of airtime and not wanting to jeopardize that too. She had already had enough bullshit thanks to earlier with her dad. "Watch my eyes…" She cautioned, eyeballing the stick of eyeliner that was approaching her face. She was currently in a make-up chair, being harassed. She had her dad's eyes, something the make-up women liked to remark on, since they did HIS eyeliner too.

"Trust us; we've hard years of practice, on your daddy."

"Oh ew, you said that with a leer, now that's just disgustin'."

"Well, you know what they say about-"

"Give her a break, Tricia." Phil said, having overheard what was being said as he made his way to the chair next to Beau's dropping down. "I'm sure she hears enough from screaming fan girls pining for the Deadman."

Tricia regarded him curiously. Phil didn't wear make-up and he generally did his own hair. Wet it, slick it back with gel, he was good to go. "You're suddenly not too good for us, huh?"

"Well, if you want me to do my own hair just say so." He replied innocently, purposefully tonguing his lip ring just to irritate her.

"That's gross, quit it. I'll do your damn hair, Brooks." She grumbled, turning to eyeball his head and rolled her eyes. "I get it; you need shaved on the neck."

He smirked, refraining from clapping his hands, knowing better than to antagonize her while she was coming towards him with clippers. He'd wind up bald, again.

DeeDee resumed focus on Beau, bending down to apply the liner.

Phil also turned his attention to Beau, genuinely smiling at her, though it slipped a notch when Tricia roughly pushed his head forward so she could have at his neck. "So how do you like the WWE so far, Calaway?"

Knowing better than to say 'it fucking sucks so far' to anyone, Beau managed a smile and a shrug. "I haven't been here long enough to form an opinion." She went with diplomacy.

"Quit talking to her, Brooks. Bobo, look up." DeeDee ordered, ignoring the dirty look she was shot. John Cena had given her that nickname on her first day in the company and it stuck. "Foundation, eyeliner, lipstick… what are we missing?"

"Fuck off D, I can talk to her if I want." Phil growled and whipped around in his chair when Tricia purposefully shaved in the wrong direction, tugging hairs. "Watch it!"

"Mascara." Beau sighed, groaning when DeeDee perked up. Her eyelashes were naturally long and oddly dark instead of pale like her dad's, she very rarely wore it. By the way her torturer had perked, she knew her distraction ploy hadn't worked.

"Oh yeah, your costume! Wardrobe finally finished and sent it over; you won't have to wrestle in your old gear anymore!"

Phil watched as the costume was pulled out of a dry cleaning bag, wincing when he heard a few choice words coming from the next seat over and actually felt bad for Beau. It was obvious she didn't like it and he got the feeling it had to do with how much material wasn't there… and that's when the 'man' switch flipped on, something he generally was pretty good at keeping under control. "Wow."

"What?" Tricia demanded, following his gaze to Beau who was now standing with the garment held up against her. "Oh."

"Forgive me a moment; I think I may be having a 'wood' issue." He said, snorting in amusement when two pairs of eyes landed on him.

That should have been offensive but Isabeau had heard much, much worse in her time and simply stared at him then looked down at the outfit, holding it away from her. "You have wood from looking at a costume? Damn Brooks, what's the word for someone who gets his rocks off on clothing?" She joked, disappearing behind the changing screen.

"Touché."

Other than the clippers and general noise of a busy arena, silence reigned. At least until Beau's indignant huff reached them. "Am I supposed to be showin' so much… tits?"

"So long as your nipples stay in place, you're fine."

"You better give me that no slip tape or no promises."

Rolling her eyes, DeeDee grabbed the tape off the counter behind her and tossed it over the screen.

"Hey!"

"Out of curiosity, what is the point of wearing something that reveals a lot of skin and then not go the full nine yards?" Phil demanded, pointedly ignoring the looks Tricia and DeeDee were giving him as he stood up, running a hand along the back of his now smooth neck and trimmed hairline. "It makes no sense at all."

"That's because you're a man." Beau said, poking her head out around the screen, rolling her eyes when DeeDee gestured her to come out. Folding her arms over her chest, she stepped out and tolerated the inspection that followed. "Well?"

"It's almost a pity that you have long limbs like your father, puberty must have been hell." Tricia commented, taking in the shorts that seemed a bit too short when compared to Beau's long legs. "You'll do."

"Gee, way to boost the confidence." Beau laughed, knowing DeeDee knew better than to try playing her up, it'd make her uncomfortable. She looked at Phil from the corner of her eye, turning to face him. "So does the reality match the imagination?" She joked, turning to face him.

Phil surveyed her coolly, walking around her in a slow circle before finally nodding, coming to a halt directly in front of her. "You are definitely fuckable, and that tape is doing wonders for your breasts."

"Aw Brooks, how sweet." Beau drawled, having exchanged enough words to know by now that the man had no problem in saying exactly what he was thinking. "Every girl wants to hear she's fuckable." She shook her head, laughing, glad her hair was already done. It stayed down and was lightly curled, naturally, that was how it always stayed for on-screen. Originally there had been talk of dying it to brown or even blond but she had put her foot down.

"Who's fuckable?"

Now that was awkward. "Phil is." She said automatically, preferring Glenn to not try whooping Brook's ass right now.

When Glenn turned to look at him, Phil didn't even miss a beat. "That's right, Big Red. I am fuckable, or at least, that's what they tell me." He said dead pan.

For some reason, Beau found that extremely funny and began laughing, unable to stop once she got started.

That got Phil going, finding her reaction more than entertaining as well as not entirely what he had been expecting. When Beau stumbled backwards, he automatically reached out to grab her shoulders, pulling her back to a straight position, staring into her face.

"What's going on?" Mark tilted his head at the sight of his daughter and bit his tongue to keep from saying he knew he might possibly regret later. Diverting his attention, he looked at Glenn who was almost red in the face. "Well?"

"Phil and Bobo think each other is fuckable." Tricia supplied, wincing when Beau's laughter came to an abrupt end.

Beau shot Tricia a dirty look; the woman had absolutely no spine. "Oh would you look at the time?" She glanced down at her bare wrist. "I have to go." She made to book it only to halt and groan when Glenn stepped in front of her. She looked at him and then to Mark who clearly had a lot of things on his mind that he was trying not to say. "I am an adult so BACK off."

"Beau, honey…"

She rolled her eyes, pretty sure if she kept doing that they were going to get stuck in the back of her head, and waited for the lecture about flirting with the boys being bad for business and bad personally. "Yes, Glenn?"

He just shook his head.

"Brooks, you think that about my daughter, boy?"

Phil met Calaway's stare, contemplating that before looking back at Beau and then again to the locker room leader. "Yeah, I do." He said finally, having never backed down from speaking his mind or the truth and not about to start now. Though he was fully expecting honesty to get his head put through a wall at any moment.

Mark considered him a moment longer, finally just grunting out 'alright then' before turning and walking away. A very confused Glenn trailed after him.

Phil just stood there, feeling like he had missed something and felt Beau moving to stand beside him, exchanging a 'what the fuck' look with her. "Alright then?"

"This is going to sound paranoid but I am now expectin' him to do something horrible at a later date. Does that sound paranoid to anyone else?"

DeeDee and Tricia both shook their heads no.

"I didn't think so either."

~!~

"Mark, what the hell is going on with you? Didn't you hear what Brooks just said about Isabeau?" Glenn was both baffled and pissed off at the same time, narrowing his eyes. "You do realize you just encouraged her to fuck a co-worker, right?"

"Brooks is one of the few men who does not fuck anything that walks." Mark said flatly, more than aware of the kid's 'straight edge' lifestyle. No drinking, no smoking, and a rather commendable lack of promiscuity issues.

Glenn personally thought Mark had lost his mind.

~!~

"This has been a very interestin', educational night…" Beau yawned, glancing over her shoulder at Phil, who was busy tracing a finger up and down her back. She had been pleased with the outcome of her match, she had been pleased when Phil had congratulated her on a job well done in passing in the hallway, really pleased when she didn't see or hear from Mark or Glenn. Now she was pleased because somehow, someway, she and Phil had done another passing in the hallway thing here at the hotel and… well, he had been right about being fuckable.

Sex with Isabeau was mind blowing to say the least and definitely trippy in the fact that Phil didn't sleep around. He generally steered clear of sex unless he was in a committed relationship. He still wasn't entirely sure how they had wound up in bed. She had been coming up the stairwell; he had just stepped off the elevator. They had avoided crashing into each other and fell into an easy step, heading down the hallway to their respective rooms.

They had made the expected small talk, sharing a chuckle over some backstage incident and then… they were making out, right there against the Pepsi machine, their bags lying on the floor. From there they had somehow made it to her hotel room –which had been closer than his- and in bed.

"Interesting might be an understatement." He said, bending down to kiss the dimples at the base of her spine. Phil was pretty certain if word of this ever got out he was a dead man walking, smirking slightly at the word association, obviously thinking of her dear old dad.

Figuring if this was going to be his last night walking the earth; he might as well take advantage of it. Chuckling wickedly at her gasp of surprise, he flipped Beau over and slid up deliciously damp body.

"Your eyes are hazel." She murmured, her hands moving to hold either side of his face, studying him thoughtfully.

"Mmhmm." He held perfectly still when she raised her mouth to lightly take his lip ring between her lips, feeling her tug ever so slightly. When she let go, he arched an eyebrow down at her. "That's a great way to tear it out you know."

"Couldn't resist."

Shaking his head and trying not to smile, Phil kissed her. After a moment, he felt her pushing him away and pulled back, his brow creasing in a hint of a frown. "What's wrong?"

Beau's already flushed skin darkened a bit more in her cheeks as she stared at him. "I… just wanted you to know that… I don't do this, usually." When he cocked an eyebrow at her, she thrust her hips up against his. "You know what I mean, Brooks."

"I know what you mean, Calaway." He murmured, brushing his lips against hers reassuringly. "Believe it or not, neither do I." He scoffed when she gave him a disbelieving look, sitting upright so he was straddling her waist, guiding her hands up onto his chest.

Automatically she played her palms against him, feeling his heart beating steadily opposed to her own which was going a mile a minute. From what she knew about Phil, hardly anything seemed to shake him. It must've been nice… having that amount of composure.

"Look, Isabeau, I mean it. When I tell you something, it's always going to be the truth, whether you like hearing it or not. That's just how I am." Phil said seriously, not tearing his eyes from hers, wanting to impress on her that he wasn't messing with her head. "I don't do this. I don't sleep around. I don't do one night stands. It's not me."

She finally nodded, returning his smile when he beamed down at her, scooting backwards until she was able to sit up. Kneeling, Beau leaned in so they were pressing together, her hands clasping behind his neck. "Me either."


	3. Sneakin' Around

**3: Sneakin' Around**

Isabeau hadn't been to bed and she wasn't feeling tired yet so it wasn't a big deal. Though she knew later I the day it was going to come back on her. All night she and Phil had stayed up, alternating between sex, talking and watching TV. It was just… weird, but in a nice way. Most important, it was comfortable.

Now they were sitting on either end of the small sleeper sofa, facing each other, sitting Indian style with a tray of room-service food between them. They had rung for breakfast as soon as the hour wasn't considered obscene. He had put his black shorts back on and she was running around in her bra and panties.

"Phillip Jack is not a bad name." She protested, popping a piece of buttered toast in her mouth, they were debating who had the worse name and she was convinced she clearly had this won. "Your name is normal. Your REAL name, there is nothing normal about CM Punk."

This was part of the 'getting to know you so this ain't awkward' thing they were doing and surprisingly enough, they didn't need to bother because there was no awkwardness. It was hard to feel awkward around a guy that you not only slept with –repeatedly- in the Biblical sense but also watched the 90's animated version of X-Men with, the entire time debating heatedly on whether or not it was better than the reboots since. They had agreed to disagree in the end.

"Whatever. Nothing you say will-"

"Mine's Marigold." She blurted, groaning when he placed a hand over his mouth to hide a smirk. "Isabeau Marigold."

"You win, hands down."

When he began laughing outright, Beau threw a sofa pillow at him.

Catching it, Phil honestly tried to stop with the smirking, instead settling for a half grin. "Who names their kid Isabeau Marigold?"

She shifted slightly, rolling her eyes.

"It uh, sounds southern." He stuffed an orange slice in his mouth to keep from laughing more, not wanting to hurt her feelings. Though he was also pretty certain he was seeing some amusement in Beau's eyes at the same time. After swallowing, he cleared his throat. "Marigold isn't really that bad, it's… unique."

"Marigold is a hippie name. My mom was a hippie." Beau clarified, reaching for the last piece of bacon before he could snitch it, snickering when he growled. "Isabeau is her idea of being romantic, she stole it from a movie or a book I think, and Marigold is her favorite flower, she's weird."

Phil wasn't going to argue that.

~!~

"Mark, quit staring at the damn phone and just call her." Lane ordered, having been watching him sitting on the end of their hotel bed, staring down at the cell phone in his hand for the past five minutes. She had been dating the man for just over two years and had a better relationship with his daughter than he did. It was a bit sad actually.

He liked keeping personal and professional separate, which was good, she did too. Hence the reason when they were at work –she was a physical therapist- they were simply co-workers. When they weren't working, they were together again. They didn't flaunt their relationship and they both preferred it that way. Him because his love life tended to become a bit of a three-ring circus and her because… well, she didn't like circuses.

Beau didn't buy into Mark's ideology and would have preferred him to be dad 24/7. Or she would have, if she was ever on speaking terms with her father. They butted heads too much, both in their professional and personal lives.

Mark worried about Beau but he never showed it very well. He was actually quite bad at it. He monitored her like a hawk and when Beau had begun wrestling and not followed him into the WWE… well, Lane had stayed away for a while during those days. He had been unbearable to live with. It was like he had taken personally when he had been the most adamant about her not wrestling in the first place.

"Here, I'll call and check on her since you're going to take another twenty to do it." She sighed, hitting the speed dial on her own cell.

"Damn it, Lane!" Mark growled, turning to crawl up the bed towards her, taking the cell and snapping it shut. "Why'd you do that?" He demanded, throwing it carelessly onto the bedside table.

"So one of us wasn't sitting here like an idiot."

He scowled at her, not amused today with her sharp tongue as he generally was. "I need a drink… and maybe a chair shot to the head." He muttered, rolling off the bed and headed for the bathroom.

"And it's not even nine in the morning yet!" She called after him.

He flipped her off over his shoulder.

"So that's where Beau gets it…"

~!~

"I am not answering that." Beau said, staring down at her cell phone like it was going to bite her. When it stopped ringing, she let out a sigh of relief.

"Your dad?" Phil asked, not surprised when she nodded, moving out of firing range before he let his customary smirk spread across his lips. "Afraid to tell him about me?" He caught the phone when it came flying at his head, laughing. "Oh come on Beau, you are!"

"Let's call him and YOU can tell him."

"You know," He dropped the cell onto the couch before leaping over it, catching her about the waist before she could duck him. "How about we don't?" Phil murmured, already backing her towards the bed.

Beau hesitated, gently but firmly pushing her hands against his shoulders, shaking her head. "As nice as that sounds, I better return the call, it was Lane."

"Lane? You said it was your dad."

She half-grinned at his confused tone. "Dad's girlfriend, pretty much the same thing."

"Wait, you mean… 'Lane' Lane?" Phil was pretty sure his jaw was dangling on the ground. "But… she's not a blonde!"

"What's that supposed to- never mind." Beau was trying not to laugh as she 'got' it. Her dad was notorious for his tastes in blondes and Lane had hair that was pitch black.

"Wow… just… wow."

"Don't you dare say a word to anyone; they're private about their thing."

He mimed zipping his lips, dropping onto the bed while she dialed in Lane's number. 'Taker and Lane… now that was… unexpected. Lane was easy going but didn't put up with anyone's crap or sugarcoat things whereas 'Taker was anything but easy going and he usually dished out the crap.

"Hey sunshine, glad you called me back." Lane greeted cheerfully. "Didn't wake you did I?"

"Nope, I was up."

"Good, good. So, did you forget about me last night?"

Beau blinked at that, and then groaned, shaking her head when Phil shot her a curious look. "I did, I'm sorry."

Lane chuckled softly. "It's alright, Beau. You sound tense though, kiddo."

"No… actually, I'm really, really relaxed right now." Beau could not for the life of her keep a grin off her face, glad Lane couldn't see it.

Unable to keep his own Cheshire grin hidden, Phil got off the bed and walked around to kiss her forehead before heading to the bathroom. While a definite surprise to find out that Lane and Mark were apparently knocking boots, he wasn't about to say a word to anyone. Though he did wonder how someone like Lane dealt with a grump like Calaway, she definitely had to have a lot of patience.

~!~

If Lane had any idea what Phil was thinking, she probably would have agreed with him. As it was, being a mature, experienced woman –she was only five years younger than Mark-, she commended her boyfriend on finally dating women his own age.

She recognized the tone of voice Beau was using and glanced at the still closed bathroom door before getting up and heading for the balcony for a bit more privacy. Mark did not need to know everything, she had her own relationship with Isabeau but she didn't tell him everything his daughter told her. Things didn't work that way. "So… is he cute?"

Beau started laughing. "I have no idea what you're talkin' about."

"Liar! Shame on you, sunshine. Well, so long as it was good, I'll forgive you for standing me up." This was definitely not a conversation Mark ever needed to overhear. Lane would not bet on the twenty-five year old Isabeau still being a virgin but Mark probably didn't need it confirmed either.

~!~

Beau was off the phone when Phil came out, turning to look at him. She was busy packing her duffel bag, having pulled on a pair of jeans while chatting with Lane and did a sponge bath thing with some moist towelettes she carried everywhere. "As much as I was looking forward to havin' my way with you again, I've promised to ride with Lane to the airport." She explained at his confused look. "She's flyin' ahead to the next live show location and I'll probably just rent a car for the drive to the house shows along the way. Dad has shit he has to do so he can't go with her."

Phil's smile turned into a frown, watching her face mirroring his right before she turned to finish packing. Walking over to stand behind her, he placed his hands on her hips, tugging her back against him gently. "Beau, I don't want this to be a one-time deal between us." He said evenly, one hand skimming to her bare stomach, feeling her sharp inhale. He had told her he was brutally honest.

Slowly, Beau turned in his arms, staring up at him intently.

"I've already programmed my number into your cell. Call, text, whatever, but don't you dare leave me hanging."

"Is that an order?" Beau asked, trying to sound stern but it was really hard when he was giving her that damn smirk.

"Yes, that's an order."

"Fair warnin', I have a Bluetooth and I like chattin' while I'm drivin'." She cautioned him, only half teasing, trailing kisses along his jawline, not minding his beard in the least. "Do you want to ride with me?"

"Not fair." He murmured, eyes closed as he tilted his head back, feeling a shiver running down his spine as her lips moved down his throat. "Can't ask a guy questions when you're doing that, it's very distracting."

"Mmm… you do houses shows, don't you?" She nipped at his pulse point. "You can meet me at the airport and…" Beau realized it sounded like sneaking around, which technically was what she had every intention of doing if they were going to continue this. She did not need her dad coming down on her anytime soon for mixing it up with one of the boys. Actually, she just didn't need to hear it period from anyone. "I'm ramblin', my bad."

"Don't stop on my account." Phil said, tilting his head down to stare at her, seeing the flush in her cheeks and offered a crooked smile. "I'll meet you there and we can ride together." He knew she wasn't keen on shouting their involvement from the rooftops and for now, that was fine with him. He preferred it that way as well, neither of them needed to deal with the gossip that came with relationships with co-workers. If things ever got more serious, well, they'd cross that bridge when or if it came. "Get going, I'll be right behind you."

"Wicked." She murmured, knowing for a fling, this could work out. She didn't think long term, she had learned from watching Mark that relationships between co-workers rarely worked out. The fact that he and Lane had been together so long –without him popping the question yet- was amazing. Of course, part of the reason she liked Lane was the fact that Lane would probably tell him to go fuck himself if ever proposed.

Pulling away before she got even more distracted, Beau finished getting dressed. She pulled on a tank top and then threw her already brushed hair back into a ponytail, aware that Phil was now dressing as well. Fortunately for him, he had his bag with him so he wasn't doing the walk of shame back to his room in last night's clothing.

After grabbing her bag, she kissed him again, giggling when he tried playfully to pull her back towards the bed. "Gotta go, Brooks."

"No you don't, Calaway." He whispered, nipping on her bottom lip. When she whimpered, he pulled away, looking pleased with himself. "Alright, yes you do. Get going."

"Tease."

"I can be." He shooed her out the door, knowing if he kept messing with her, she was going to meet Lane looking flushed and distracted. Women had this ability to sense things about other women; he didn't think Beau would appreciate Lane prodding at her. Once she was at the stairwell, he was beginning to notice a pattern of not using the elevator; he slipped back into the room. Since he was here… he figured a shower was in order before following.


	4. A Father's Warning

**4: A Father's Warning**

Lane was not very amused when Mark invited himself to tag along down to the hotel lobby. She was even less amused when he realized she was meeting Beau and decided he was sticking around instead of going to do his own thing. She got that he wanted to talk to his daughter and deal with the tension between them, what she hated was the fact that he was going to use her as the buffer for it.

"She ain't going to be mad." He said, bending down to kiss the side of her head, frowning when she elbowed him in the ribs. "Woman…"

"She's going to think I set her up."

"You should, you're my woman, and whose side are you on anyway?"

Lane smirked up at him. "Mine, duh."

"She won't mind."

"She's going to mind, Mark." She sighed, waving when she spotted Isabeau coming. So far, Beau was smiling and Lane returned it, hesitantly, not surprised in the least when the smile began shifting into a frown as Beau realized who else was there. "Told you." She hissed, pleased to hear him curse under his breath. "You must have been a royal ass last night for her to still be holding a grudge." She had no idea what had happened and she didn't want to know, she just wanted them to get along. "Hey sunshine." She greeted, hugging Beau lightly when the younger woman was close enough to touch.

"Lane." Beau briefly hugged her back before stepping away, nodding at Mark coolly. "Dad."

"Hey honey." He rumbled, inwardly sighing when she simply stared at him, knowing she was probably still carrying a Texas sized grudge with him at the moment. "Look, Beau, I know you probably don't want to see me right now, but we have to talk." He bit the bullet and said it, it came out in a rush, but he said it. He could actually feel the approval radiating from Lane and wanted to smack the back of her head when she practically purred. Damn woman.

Beau didn't say a word, though now she wasn't looking so cool, she was staring at him like he had lost his mind actually.

This wasn't easy for him and she had to know it, Beau wasn't exactly known for being overly-emotional when it came to talking either. At least, not with him. "I'm still your father and you know I love you, even if I am-"

"An overbearing ass." Lane murmured under her breath, smiling sweetly up at him when he shot her a dark look. "Sorry."

"Isabeau, give me a break. I promise to… stop with the criticizing, of everythin'."

She eyed him suspiciously. "No more TNA and Indie remarks?" She demanded.

He hesitated before nodding, reluctantly.

"No more with the guys?"

Another reluctant nod.

"Good." She held out her hand, grunting in surprise when he pulled her to him in a bone crunching hug. "Dad, my back!" She gasped, hearing it do a pop-pop-pop thing and stumbled backwards when he let go. After stretching and doing a ginger twist from the hips, she looked at Lane. "So, we ready to hit the road or…?"

"How about some breakfast first?" Lane suggested, already guiding the pair towards the hotel's restaurant.

"Sure…" Beau paused long enough to step backwards for a modicum of privacy, whipping out her cell phone. She texted Phil to let him know she was going to be delayed, suddenly getting the impression that Lane was plotting against her.

Lane wasn't plotting against her but… her flight didn't leave for a bit and she was hungry… not to mention since Mark had been so nice and extended the olive branch, she wanted to see this peaceful thing keep on rolling. She slipped her hand in Mark's, letting him take lead though once they were at a booth, she purposefully waited until Beau had slid onto the leather seat before nudging him in as well.

Grunting, Mark pushed the table out, giving himself more room.

Beau and Lane both looked under the table, snickering together at the sight of his legs sticking out into the aisle.

"Laugh it up chuckles." Mark growled, glancing down at his daughter, arching an eyebrow when she stretched her own legs beneath the table, peering over to find them resting on the seat opposite her, Lane sitting directly across from him. "That's cheating."

"Not all of us are near seven foot."

"Or six foot. I may be getting a short person complex." Lane joked, looking back and forth between the pair with a soft smile. The smile went from warm to somewhat confused when Mark raised his hand in greeting, twisting in her seat to find him gesturing Phil Brooks over. She glanced at Beau only to find the younger woman blushing furiously. "You alright?" She whispered.

Beau just nodded.

Phil strolled up to the table, nodding to the women before looking at Mark. "Deadman." He greeted, extending his hand. His hazel eyes widened when he was directed to the seat, muttering an excuse me as Lane slid down.

Beau quickly folded her legs under the table.

Nobody got a chance to say anything as a waitress appeared, setting down a coffee pot and a neat stack of mugs. She began taking orders, a somewhat confused Phil and uncomfortable Beau both declining food. They had already eaten, not that they were sharing that information. Mark wound up ordering them each a platter with a bit of everything on it.

Beau inwardly groaned, that bacon she had snitched from Phil earlier suddenly not setting so well.

Phil simply settled back in his seat, flashing an easy smile at Lane who simply nodded at him.

To occupy herself and focus on the fact that even though she had just eaten the equivalent of breakfast, lunch and dinner, she began displacing her freshly poured coffee with sugar, stacking the empty packets in a neat pile in front of her. She knew damn well Lane was silently sizing up the situation and really hated the woman for being so damn perceptive. Who told her it was alright to be that way? And why was Mark acting so nice? She next poured a bunch of creamer into her mug.

Lane had been watching, her nose wrinkling in disgust. "That is gross, you know that right?"

"Coffee black is gross."

Mark felt the tension in the air, looking from each face speculatively. When Lane realized he was studying her, her expression went blank, amusement sparkling in her gray eyes. He made a note to interrogate her later, a devious smirk curving his lips at the thought. He nearly growled when Lane caught the smirk and openly shivered. It was always gratifying to know that after two years he could still produce that little effect.

"So, Phil," Lane coughed, taking a sip of her coffee and purposefully looking away from Mark before he could purposely torment her more. "You're getting ready to work with… Cena, I believe?"

Beau looked up at that.

Phil met her gaze evenly, knowing she and John were fairly close and simply shrugged. "Yeah, they're putting us in a short run." He was a bit curious what Mark was up too, remembering last night at the make-up and wardrobe station. He recalled Beau saying something about him doing something horrible at a later date, perhaps this was it? Or perhaps, and this thought damn near brought an arrogant grin to his face, Mark knew all the dirty things he had done to Beau not so long ago and was trying to get close enough to commit murder.

He disregarded that instantly. Subtly when pissed off was not exactly Mark's style and unless the man had had his ear pressed against the bedroom door, Phil sincerely doubted he knew a damn thing.

"That's cool, for John I mean, he's been getting' bored lately." Beau drawled, ignoring Phil' s derisive snort. Phil had recently gone from heel to fan favorite though still not a face and most likely, he would never reach that spot, by choice. Where he was now was a good spot for him and she knew a run with John would be beneficial to both guys. Not to mention it would hopefully lead to John getting pushed out of the staleness that was his Superman routine.

Since John happened to be one of her nearest and dearest friends, she always made it a point to ask him if he had leapt any tall buildings in a single bound that day.

"Don't you and John sometimes train together?" Lane asked curiously.

"We spar, yeah."

Lane nodded, murmuring 'thank you' when a plate of food was set down in front of her. "You two would actually make a cute couple." She said, unfolding her napkin.

"Me and John?" Beau echoed, her eyes wide.

Lane nodded.

Phil drug a fork through his scrambled eggs, contemplating if they would taste better with ketchup or syrup, not bothered in the least by Lane's comments. When Beau had first signed on with the company, a lot of people thought she and John was a couple, but John had been the one to put those rumors to rest. The man was happily married and made that fact known. He had also made it known that he wasn't about to have a dish on the side. Always good to know.

"Hellfire woman," Mark snorted, staring at Lane incredulously, a forkful of sausage, biscuits and gravy halfway to his mouth. "John and Beau are practically siblings." He gently nudged his daughter with his elbow, scraping the fork tines with his teeth. "Right?"

"Practically. He's the annoying brother I never wanted." She said sarcastically, now adding sugar to her syrup coated sausage links. "Dad, you got gravy on your 'stache." Beau pulled a face when he licked it off. "Gross."

"Why don't you train with Brooks?" He suggested, completely ignoring it when her disgusted expression turned to pure shock. "Cena's about to do another movie anyway, you'll need someone to spar with." Someone who wasn't him since they'd probably wind up in a fist fight, they were just that dysfunctional at times.

Beau considered it, taking her turn to ignore his disgusted look when she popped another sugar and syrup covered link in her mouth, chewing noisily just to irk him a bit. "I'll take it under advisement." She said finally, swallowing and sneaked a look at Phil. He had loaded ketchup over everything on his plate and looked like he was trying to at least clear half of it, now that was gross. "Providin' you are nowhere near the goddamn ring."

"What's he do to you when he is?" Lane asked, looking anywhere but the red plate beside her.

Beau fixed Lane with a 'seriously' look.

"Ah yeah, never mind."

Mark shot her a look.

She gave him a saccharine smile. "I'm not a wrestler or intimidated by you. That 'general' Calaway look doesn't work with me." It also helped that she wasn't some young kid who was star stuck or out to sleep her way into a higher position. Lane was pretty comfortable where she was in her professional life and comfortable enough with herself to tell him just how it was.

Mark rolled his eyes at her, occupying himself with his food for a moment or two. "You're awful damn quiet, Brooks, which has to be a first." He said after clearing the majority of his food.

"Just enjoying the atmosphere." Phil said, having abandoned the pretense of eating, his hands folded behind his head as he regarded everyone at the table. "If Beau is up for it, I'll spar with her." He threw her a cheeky wink. "I even promise to be on my best behavior."

Phil was lying through his teeth and Beau was having a hard time hiding her amusement. He might behave for a while but she had a feeling the professional/personal rules were fixing to get thrown out the window. "Sounds good."

Lane was just going to keep her observations to herself, wondering if Mark was as dense as he was appearing to be or just going along with whatever the hell was happening beneath the radar. The back of her neck was itching, that usually something was going on or fixing too.

"I have to head out if I'm going to make it to the house show." Beau announce, nudging her dad before looking at Lane. "Are you ready to head out?" One perk about her pops being in his semi-retired state meant house shows were very relaxed for her.

"I'll make your father give me a ride, sunshine, I know this breakfast was a bit unexpected."

Mark arched an eyebrow when Beau stood on her tiptoes to peck his cheek. "You have a safe drive."

"Course." She turned to lean past Phil, hugging Lane who had half-risen from her seat. "Smack him a few times for me."

"Your dad? Count on it."

Beau gave Phil a quick smile. "I'll talk to you later, about the training."

"Count on it." He fought back the urge to slap her ass as she sauntered by him, giving himself a slight shake before turning back to Mark. The little tease was going to get her comeuppance later, definitely. "Well… I think I'd better head out too before I miss my flight… so…" His flight was nonexistent and Phil could not believe he was sitting here, lying directly to the Undertaker of all people. He didn't really like lying, it served no purpose, but he couldn't see a purpose in him dying via a fork jabbed right through his heart either.

"Not so fast, son." Mark said, reaching out to casually touch the tips of his long fingers on the top of Phil's hand, staying him. He watched as Phil, who had begun to stand, got a resigned expression on his face and dropped back down. "We got a few ground rules to lay down."

Lane was busying herself with the remainder of her food, knowing the look on Mark's face and figured she'd just let him get this out so he wouldn't be a grouch the rest of the day. Apparently he hadn't missed the little looks Beau and Phil had been trying not to blatantly shoot each other.

Phil was giving Mark his full and undivided attention, his face arranged into a blank mask.

"I only have one rule."

"Hm, you made it sound plural."

"You got a smart mouth, boy." Mark said sharply, leaning over the table, not surprised in the least when Phil simply leaned forward as well. "If you touch my daughter in any way that even hints at bein' unprofessional, it'll be the last thing you ever do. Got me, Punk?"

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Phil simply nodded.

"Mark, let him go." Lane ordered gently, fixing herself a second cup of coffee. "Phil's mostly a good boy, I'm sure he'll behave."

Phil shot her a dirty look, obviously not appreciating being spoken about like he was a puppy.

Lane simply smiled at him. When Mark sat back in his seat, Phil pushed himself up and left without another word, which caused her to start laughing. Reaching across the table, she squeezed Mark's fingers gently. "They'll be fine, and professional. You worry a bit too much, honey."


	5. Bump In the Road

**5: Bump in the Road**

Beau had just thrown her bag into the trunk of the rental she had just finished renewing her contract on via her cell when she spotted Phil coming out of the hotel. The disgruntled look on his face told her he had gotten the 'Undertaker Special' which usually wasn't threats but promises. Always a promise since her dad liked to follow through if he had too.

Phil knew they were supposed to meet at the airport, but with the change in Lane's traveling plans, he didn't see the point. Not sparing a backwards glance, he began walking towards her. "You know," He said as he drew closer. "Sometimes I think I'm really stupid for even thinking about doing this."

"Doing what?" She asked, confusion in her eyes.

"But then I see you and…"

"Doing what?"

"This." He dropped his bag in order to cup her face gently between his hands, bending down to brush his lips against hers. It was brief, but it was enough. "I'm riding with you."

Beau was a little distracted, absentmindedly licking her lips. "What about yours? Your car I mean."

"I can arrange to have it picked up." He took the keys from her dangling hand, turning to unlock the trunk and dropped his bag in alongside hers. "Come on."

Beau started to walk around the car, halting when she realized she was getting in on the passenger side. "Hey, this is MY car, Brooks."

"I'm driving, Calaway." He flashed her a grin from the opposite side of the car. Without giving her time to argue, he opened the door and slid in, adjusting the seat automatically. When Beau literally plopped down in the other seat, he clucked his tongue. "Pouting are we?"

"It is my car."

"But we're sharing."

She snorted at that, buckling herself in. "So, what'd my dad say to you?"

"Something about killing me, I think."

"You think?"

"Well, it was a bit hard to focus when I was still thinking about your ass."

Beau scoffed, turning her head to look out the window.

He glanced over at her, seeing the slight smile on her lips and focused on driving, unable to resist grinning as well.

~!~

Payback for him stealing her car came a few hours later when they pulled off the Interstate at a rest area for food, bathrooms and gas. Beau was relatively unknown, thanks to her less than typical career choices, and he was not.

She was standing in line at the register, watching from the corner of her eye as he browsed the bags of nuts and chips on display. A wicked grin stretched her lips when she heard two voices behind her, arguing in hushed whispers.

"It's CM Punk!"

"No, it isn't! He's not tall enough!"

"Is!

"Isn't!"

She slowly turned around, instantly getting their attention. Considering she was just past six feet tall, she usually did get attention; her height alone generally guaranteed it. "It is CM Punk." She said, mimicking them and whispering.

"Prove it." The shorter of the women said.

"Hey, Punk, can I have an autograph?"

Phil nearly dropped the bag of chips he had been contemplating, arching an eyebrow at Beau, wondering what the hell she was up too. "Sure…" He said finally, deciding to just go with it, approaching her and the two women she was standing with cautiously.

"It IS him."

Beau was smirking slightly as the two began jumping up and down like insane people, stepping aside so she didn't get bounced into. Humming, she turned back to the cashier to pay for her stuff, listening as they argued over who was going to hold a camera or something. When she turned again, it looked like Phil was in hell, the girls literally on either side of him, each gripping an arm while passing a small camera back and forth.

"You take it!"

"No, you take it!"

"Here, I'll take it." Beau offered, shifting her paper sack to one arm and reaching out with the other for the camera. She met Phil's eyes and could see the annoyance brewing behind those hazel orbs, shooting him the most cheerful, oblivious smile she could muster.

The women each planted a kiss on his cheek while Beau snapped the picture, leaving lipstick prints when they pulled away.

Beau had to vacate then, laughing so hard she was going to have to use the restroom again.

~!~

Phil didn't care that Beau was in his seat; he just dived into the car and locked the door. "Drive." He ordered, looking up in time to see his admirer's coming; pretty sure one of them had slipped something into his pocket. Once they were back on the highway, he shifted in his seat to glare at her. "You. Are. Evil."

"Well, duh, it's a genetic trait." Beau laughed, tossing him her pack of Wetwipes. "You got lipstick on your cheeks, Romeo."

Growling, he flipped down the visor, peering into the mirror. "Great…" He hurriedly scrubbed the magenta and dark red lipstick kiss prints off her face, frowning when he heard what sounded suspiciously like a lighter being flicked.

Beau had just lit up a cigarette.

Not even thinking twice about it, he reached out and plucked it out of her mouth. Ignoring her angry protests and the way she swerved from one lane to the other, he rolled down his window and pitched the death stick right out the window.

Before Beau could stop him, her just bought pack of Marlboro Reds was tossed as well. "What the hell, Brooks?" She shrieked, gripping the steering wheel tightly, not about to get into an accident and blushed furiously when a car shot around her, the occupants flipping her off, obviously not happy about the swerving thing.

"It's a disgusting habit first of all. Second, it'll kill you. Third, I'm not kissing you with cigarette breath."

"So don't kiss me."

"Now you know you don't want that, Calaway."

She scowled at him, hazel-green eyes narrowing dangerously. "You don't tell me what I can and can't do."

"Hey, if you want to kill yourself with those things, be my guest. You're not doing it right in front of me."

Beau held her tongue for ten minutes, which was enough time to reach the next exit ramp and navigate down a country road. The minute the car was parked, she unfastened.

Phil watched curiously as she adjusted her seat until it was as far back as it could go, wondering just what she was doing. The next second he was catching her fist before it could connect with his jaw, his eyes widening. "Violent much?"

"Have my moments, yes." She growled, lunging and throwing her other fist. Beau let out a shriek when he caught that one too and dragged her across the center console, right onto his lap.

"Now," Phil began awkwardly positioning her, neither of them small enough to sit together on one side of the car comfortably. "Getting violent with me is not the greatest way to kick this relationship."

"Neither is throwing my shit out the window."

"I already explained that."

All Beau could do was stare at him incredulously. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yes." He watched as she mentally tallied it up, apparently debating if cigarettes were more worthwhile than he was. When she finally just rested her head against his shoulder, he smirked, knowing he had won that battle. "Glad to see you came to your senses."

"Shut it, I still haven't ruled out kicking your ass."

~!~

"Any idea why Vince wanted to see Mark so damn bad?" Glenn asked, watching Lane shake her head and continue setting up her work room.

"No idea." She said aloud, her mind on Isabeau –who had totally ignored her phone calls the past two days and only sent a single text of 'busy, fine, lemme alone', knowing the young woman thought she was being checked up on or something.

It was still early afternoon and Vince had asked Mark to come to the arena, where he had set up some sort of Internet conference with the board. Mark had been curious enough to come, having originally planned on heading home since he really didn't have any reason to be on the road at the moment, other than her.

"Job offer probably." She said finally, aware Glenn was still standing in the doorway. Probably something off-camera, which was what Mark had been hoping to switch too before much longer since he wasn't actively wrestling anymore.

"More than a job offer actually." Mark said from behind them, smirking when Glenn and Lane both whirled around, obviously startled.

Lane darted past Glenn just so she could thump Mark's broad chest with both fists. "Not funny!"

"Sorry, darlin'." He grunted, catching her fists before she could hit him again and bent down to kiss her.

"You're. Not. Distracting. Me." She muttered between kisses.

"Uh huh."

Growling, she pulled away from him and flounced back into the room, making sure to nudge a snickering Glenn in his stomach on her way by. "So, what's the gig?"

Stepping into the room, Mark shrugged, purposefully dicking around with her just because she was beginning to look impatient, and annoyed, which he found rather… attractive. "Just a job. It won't happen until after I retire."

"Which had better be soon because when the day comes you tell me you can no longer do any position but me on top because of your knees is the day I leave you." Lane teased, feeling much better when his jaw dropped. Payback was a bitch. "Not that I don't mind being on top, but-"

Glenn interrupted quickly, not about to let them continue down this line of conversation. "And now that I am thoroughly disgusted… what's the job?"

Mark had to push the thoughts Lane had planted in his head out, knowing now was not the time to reassure her that there was NOTHING wrong with his knees when it came to the bedroom. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Glenn. "A creative role behind cameras, includin' talent scouting and consultin' work. They don't want me to leave the locker room, feel like I've made an… impact." He knew exactly what they thought of him, he was a locker room leader, but sometimes he felt like being somewhat humble.

Lane was all smiles again, walking over to snuggle into his side for a brief moment. When she tried pulling away, he draped an arm around her, pinning her in place.

"I've accepted. I don't want to leave the road and don't worry, sweetheart," He winked down at her with a knowing grin. "I'll make sure my knees are good to go even after I'm old and gray… er."

"Good thing with the 'er' there, you're already old and gray."

Glenn simply stood there, stunned into silence. The job Mark had been offered sounded suspiciously like the one he had applied for when the opportunity had been sent through the upper echelon of wrestlers, of which he was a part. Forcing down his sudden surge of anger and resentment, he clapped Mark on the back. "Good for you man."


	6. Secrets

**6: Secrets**

Lane watched as Glenn walked out of the room, then turned her attention back to Mark. "You happy with this offer then?"

"Yes, are you?"

"Thrilled. You know what this means, don't you?" She purred, shifting in his arms under they were pressed together chest to chest, sort of, she couldn't help being short. But then, most people were short compared to him.

"It means you are never going to sleep alone."

"I was thinking it meant you could pay for the hotel rooms since your pockets are much deeper than mine."

Mark's eyes widened for a brief moment before snorting. "Funny woman. You know it means we're not going to be doin' the part-time thing. You want that, right?"

"Most of the time."

"Lane, you're not exactly doing anything for my confidence."

"You are the Undertaker." Lane said simply, running her hands up his chest lightly. "You are the most respected wrestler alive and I love you. Your confidence will be just fine so quit fishing for compliments and ego-boosters because I am done handing them out."

"That's my woman, all spice and no sugar."

Lane smiled up at him, knowing that this was a good opportunity for him and she was especially appreciative of the part where he wanted to be together more. The man had definitely learned from previous relationships. "Mmm, you know I love you, now don't make me say it again."

"I like it when you say it."

"Get out of here, I've got to get set-up and then I have some appointments." She began shooing him out the door. "Your daughter included."

"You're a physical therapist, what the hell does she need to see you for?"

"Sorry, doctor/patient confidentiality clause."

"But…"

Lane pinched him in the ribs to get him moving faster, shutting the door on him when he was out in the hallway.

"Wench!"

* * *

><p>Technically, Lane wasn't a 'doctor' doctor, but she was licensed to write out certain prescriptions, which was what Beau had wanted to see her about. "Now I could have gone and seen an actual… you know, doctor, who doesn't know me." She said nervously, staring at Lane who was simply staring back. "But I trust you and I'm trustin' you to not talk to my dad about any of this."<p>

Lane just stared at her.

Her cheeks turning a splotchy red color, Beau began to wish she had gone to a doctor she didn't know. "I need a script for, um, birth control."

Lane was stunned into silence for exactly five seconds before whipping out her prescription pad, jotting down a script for the one of the more popular birth control methods, the pill. "To make periods more predictable, smart move given what business we're in." She said calmly, giving Beau a way of explaining this without explaining it.

Beau just nodded in agreement. They were both aware that was a bullshit excuse but they weren't about to have a girl-to-girl chat either.

"I'll give you a seven day trial, so you have a week to get this filled."

"Thanks." Beau accepted the paper and the tiny package, pocketing them both.

Lane watched as she all but ran out of the room. She could NEVER mention this to Mark. Ever.

* * *

><p>Phil and Beau kept their relationship under wraps for a few months before finally beginning to relax. They didn't just come out and announce they were together nor did they do the PDA thing at work, but they weren't hiding it either. They didn't sneak around to go out to eat together; they didn't hide the fact that they generally rode together, but they also didn't come out and say 'hey, we're together'.<p>

Most people naturally assumed they were still nothing more than friends; a notion neither was doing anything to disabuse. The main reason they didn't officially announce anything was that Mark seemed to be happy pretending to ignore the fact that they were spending more than enough time together to qualify them as something more. Lane found his purposeful delusions amusing but kept her opinions to herself.

* * *

><p>"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies!" Beau sang when John –who she was sparring with today since Phil had a meeting-, questioned her.<p>

John knew her well enough to know that while she wasn't hiding something, she also wasn't coming out with it either, and it was bugging the shit out of him. "Come on Beau, we're practically besties and you can't be straight with me?" He groaned when she simply grinned at him, like she always did and it was frustrating to say the least.

They were best friends and the fact that she was spending the majority of her free time with Brooks… John was jealous, point blank. He was jealous of Phil fucking Brooks! What the hell was wrong with him? The jellybean didn't know his head from his ass and yet he was always being put in the damn spotlight!

"Fine. I won't ask again." He grunted.

Beau knew it was bugging the hell out of John that she wasn't telling him but he hated Phil, there was just no point in telling him. That and if he hadn't figured it out by now, the man was incredibly thick-headed.

She also knew that it bugged the hell out of him that she had learned how to use the ropes to leverage him into Phil's finishing move, Go To Sleep, though she wasn't strong enough to hold it for very long. She heard John cursing up a storm and dropped him, catching him with her knee.

Still cursing, John rolled onto his stomach, holding his jaw.

"Admit it," She ordered, crouching down in front of him. "Between you and him, I've upped my game."

John's response was to climb to his feet, watching as she did the same.

Beau ducked his roundhouse when it came flying for her head and booked it out of the ring, laughing. "Now THAT was cheap, Johnny!"

"Oh, and using HIS move wasn't?" John retorted, leaning over the top rope with a smirk on his face. He rolled his eyes when she shook her head no, sliding out of the ring after her and ran to stop her from disappearing up the ramp. "Come on Beau!" He placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him, staring down into her face. "Don't leave. I'm sorry about that, okay? I'm just trying to understand why you won't just tell me about your relationship with Brooks."

"I really don't see why I have to spell it out for you John, I'm sure you already really know." Beau said gently, taking his hands off her and linked her arm through his, walking slowly with him backstage. "We're friends." She added after a moment. "… and a bit more."

John had already known all that and had no idea what he had been expecting to hear, but somehow the truth wasn't it. "Huh."

"What? Oh, there's my dad so let's just drop it for now because I don't want to- JOHNATHAN!"

John had thrown her over his shoulder. She wanted to drop it because of daddy so…

"I'm going to kill you for this, you know that, right? Slow, painful death coming your way."

"Uh huh, sure, just bring it on." John laughed, slapping her ass with the palm of his hand as they slipped past the curtain. "You couldn't hurt me if you wanted to, Beau."

"Put me down, Super Cena, or I will fuck your world all up!"

"Nah, you like it up there, don't lie."

"You're deluded, put me down."

"Before her father makes you put her down, boy."

At the new, very familiar voice, John literally dropped Beau, right on her ass.

"Goddamn you, Cena!" Beau bellowed, pushing herself to her feet all the while giving him a very evil look, rubbing her backside with both hands. "Seriously? You had to drop me?"

John was staring at Mark, who was staring right back with his massive arms folded over his chest and a black eyebrow arched. Even though Mark had to know he had no intentions of seriously hurting his daughter, the look on the man's face reminded John why being best friends with this woman could sometimes be detrimental to his health. "In my defense, your dad is right there." He pointed out, finally tearing his eyes from Mark to smile down at her.

"No excuses! You're not my bestie for at least a week…"

The arrival of Phil stopped the budding argument and he automatically sidled up to Beau, having overheard the last bit of their conversation. "I'll be your bestie for the week." He informed her, throwing a wink at John who simply scowled, wrapping his arm around her waist. "I'll be _very_ friendly."

Beau was simply staring up at him, her hazel-green eyes slightly confused. She glanced over at her dad who was looking on with an unreadable expression on his face and then back up at Phil, letting out a squeak when his hand dropped to her ass.

He just winked down at her.


	7. Curse of the Belt Buckle

Okay guys, here's a new chappie! It's around the 1,400 word mark without this little A/N, I found I write and update quicker when I don't try writing out long chapters. So... less content -still high quality I hope- but quicker updates? We'll see how that works.

Oh... and no babies! At least not in the foreseeable future, lol. Thanks for the r&r guys!

* * *

><p><strong>7: Curse of the Belt Buckle<strong>

* * *

><p>"You are pushing your luck, you know that right?"<p>

"Well Lane, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Phil asked sarcastically, hiding his surprise at finding her in his open locker room door.

"Mark has a general idea you and Beau are dating." She said flatly, walking in and kicking the door shut behind her. "But advertising it, probably not a good idea, the man can only take so much."

"She's a grown woman, Lane, she doesn't need daddy's permission to date. Or anything else."

"That's true, I'm just giving you fair warning."

"Ah, I see. You're the _good_ parent."

She frowned at that. "Phil…"

"Is this the part where you give me the 'if you hurt her, he's going to hurt you' speech?"

"You about covered it." Lane stared at him intently, trying to imagine just what Beau seen in this snarky bastard. For the most part, she liked Phil, but when had a mind too; he could get under her skin with hardly any effort on his part at all.

Phil stroked his beard, regarding her just as intently as she was him. "What if she hurts me?"

At that, Lane smiled. "You're a big boy, you could handle it."

"I see how it is."

"Get your mommy and daddy here and they can defend you."

He scoffed at that, turning back to taping his wrists.

* * *

><p>"Bobo, forgive me, please?"<p>

"Go. Away."

"It's been a _week_, come on!"

When she heard sneakers pounding the cement floor, Beau spared one look behind her to confirm what she already knew. John 'I'm Insane' Cena was now running after her. Cursing under her breath, she took off running as well. She already knew from experience if he caught her, he was going to hold her down and sit on her until she agreed to forgive him.

"You can't outrun me, Bobo! I'm the energizer fucking bunny!"

"Who the hell gave you caffeine?" She shrieked over her shoulder, not paying any attention as she turned the corner.

"My wife! And sex, lots of sex!"

"Whoa!"

Beau managed to throw up her arms just before she skidded right into someone who was dressed well enough to obviously be management. "Shit!" She felt arms encircling her right before they toppled. "Ouch…"

John came to a halt, arching an eyebrow at the sight before him. He had watched as none other than Shane McMahon reached out and tried to stop Beau from colliding with him. She had also tried to stop but wound up flying right into him, winding up in a type of defensive hug and then they had crashed. Currently Beau was lying sprawled on top of Shane, her legs planted right between his now open, sprawled legs.

Shane was staring at the ceiling, his pale face flushed pink and his normally gelled to perfection hair was mussed. He had let go of Beau, his arms now lying at his sides and he seemed to be counting backwards. "Isabeau Calaway, would you kindly get off of me?"

"I can't, I'm stuck…" She whispered, her face turning as red as her hair.

"You're…" He raised his head up in order to peer at her, looking between their bodies. "You… how…"

"Here." John stepped forward, bending down to reach for her. "I'll unstick you."

"NO!" They both screamed.

Hands up, he backed off. "Okay, okay, what happened?"

"I can… I can fix this." Beau said, trying to pull herself up enough to maneuver her hands. "Um… Mr. McMahon…" Obviously she knew who she was and she also knew she was never going to live this down. Of course there was the question of what he was doing here to begin with; he had resigned from the company. "I don't mean to be forward, but…"

"Call me Shane." He instructed, looking both annoyed and amused all at the same time. "Given our current predicament, I think we can skip the formalities."

"How'd you know who I was?"

"Natural red-head and your height."

"Oh." She groaned when she couldn't get her buckle out of his belt. "I can't get it."

"Get what?" John demanded, really trying his hardest not to let his jaw hit the floor. Beau was laying chest to chest now with Shane fricking McMahon with her hands between both their crotches. "Uh, you guys, you're starting to attract attention…"

Beau's red face situation wasn't helped by the fact that Shane was now studying her intently, her face so close to his that their noses were practically touching. "I am so, so sorry. John! This is your fault!"

"How is it _my_ fault?"

"You were chasin' me!"

"Oh, yeah…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Right, forgot about that."

"What the _hell_ is going on here?"

Shane didn't look away from Beau, his lips curving into an amused smirk. "What does it look like, Mark?"

Slowly, Beau turned her head to look at her dad, flinching when she saw him. He was standing only a few feet away from them, his hands balled into fists and his face turning a shade of red to match hers. "Dad, I can explain…"

"Please, explain to me why you and… and… Shane Mc-fucking-Mahon are-"

"Attached at the, um… hip?" John suggested, instantly backing away with his hands up when Mark shot him a deadly glare. "My bad…"

"Oh God, I'm going to die from humiliation." Beau whimpered, lowering her head to Shane shoulder for a brief moment, and then remembered just how they were positioned before pulling away. "What… what are you doing?" She squeaked when she felt Shane's hands now slipping between them, automatically jerking her hips away only to wind up groaning as she wound up squeezing her own waist when her belt and jeans stopped her from going any further.

"I'm trying to get us unfastened before this situation gets any worse." He replied, much more calm then she or anyone else was.

"What the _fuck_ Beau?"

Beau cringed at the sound of her boyfriend's enraged voice. "It just got worse." She whispered.

"Why… are you wearing a belt buckle anyway? Don't you know these types are out of style?" He actually smirked up at her.

"It was a gift, I didn't realize it was gonna trap me like this."

"Um, Beau, I ask again: _what the fuck_?" Phil demanded, bending down to grab her by the shoulder. He let out a string of curses when Mark clamped down on _his_ shoulder. "Get off me, old man."

"She's… stuck." Mark said through gritted teeth.

"She's… how the _fuck _do you get _stuck_ crotch to crotch?"

"Belt buckles." Shane supplied. "You know, I think we're going to have to get vertical, would one of you mind helping us up?"

John, Mark and Phil all converged, gently easing the pair to a standing position.

Without a hint of shame, John crouched down next to them and reached _his_ hand between the pair.

Shane and Beau both turned their faces towards the ceiling, looking anywhere but down.

"Dude, her buckle is raping your belt…" John laughed, ignoring the fact that there were two men behind him with every intention of fucking someone up as soon as this was over. "We need either smaller hands or something to cut one of the belts."

"I'll take option two." Shane said dryly, still not looking down. "I believe my genitals have been harassed enough for one day."

"I am so, so sorry about this." Beau apologized again, not looking at him, or anyone, just focusing on the ceiling. "John, get your hand out of there, seriously man."

Laughing, John pulled his hand away. "Alright, get me some scissors."

When they were finally free of each other, Beau was hauled off by Phil who was ignoring everyone around them even though John was chasing after, slipping into over-protective, wanna-be big-brother mode.

That left Mark and Shane standing there amid the few dispersing people who had come to watch the spectacle.

"Thought you quit?" Mark finally demanded, his eyes narrowed to slits as he stared at one of his former bosses.

"Resigned, and I did. I'm just doing some consultation work; I'm not here for good." Shane replied smoothly, busy readjusting his clothing and hair. "From my understanding, you got yourself a new position." He smiled at Mark, his brown eyes shrewd. "Congratulations."

For some reason, that left Mark with a very ominous feeling. Grunting, he simply walked away.


	8. Silk

****See? Quicker updates! Actually, I spun this out while watching Smallville, my brother decided it was okay to get me hooked on _another_ thing, as if wrestling and Skyrim weren't enough... Bethany, I am in total agreement. I have no personal opinion of Shane outside of what I've seen on the TV but he definitely comes across as a pompous jackass, albeit a _sexy_ one.

* * *

><p><strong>8: Silk<strong>

* * *

><p>"You're not really angry are you?" Beau asked, watching as Phil paced back and forth, sitting on the bench that rested against the wall of his locker room.<p>

"I don't know." He muttered, shooting her a look before resuming his pacing. "I don't like Shane, I don't like that you were on _top_ of Shane."

"It was an accident." She muttered, blushing furiously again. "I was running from John and crashed into Shane. Why don't you like him?"

"He's a pompous ass, just like his dad, what other reason do I need?"

"Okay…" She had never met the man until… the hallway/belt buckle incident. She didn't have an opinion of him yet, other than… she felt really bad that she had inadvertently raped him.

"Speaking of the belt buckle, cough it up." He stopped pacing in order to stand in front of her, tweaking his fingers in a 'give me' gesture.

"What? Why?"

"So I can put it away, away from you. Somewhere where you won't be at risk of using it to get into… precarious positions."

"I didn't use it to get myself into anything. It was an accident."

"Belt buckle. Now."

"Ain't happenin'."

"Beau…"

"Phil, you're being stupid." She got up and linked her arms around his neck. "It. Was. An. Accident. And I'm not givin' you my buckle. I just won't wear it to work anymore, alright?"

"And keep away from Shane."

"Because he's a pompous ass?"

"Well, yeah, but mostly because I don't like him."

She shook her head, trying not to smile. "Alright, if you say so."

* * *

><p>"So Mark got the position you wanted…" Shane murmured, briefly scanning the paperwork in his hand. "This is why you called me?"<p>

Glenn simply nodded.

"What makes you think I care?"

"Because he took something you wanted before you could, ah… _seal the deal_, so to speak."

At that, a vein in Shane's temple throbbed. He didn't like the reminder that that Neanderthal had swooped in and simply taken what he had been working months towards. Lane. It had taken him literally four months just to get her to agree to go out for coffee with him. He had used all his considerable charm, and even tried to throw money her way –which she hadn't even faked being impressed over- and nothing had worked. He suspected –and this bruised his ego almost as much as the fact that she had taken up with Mark- that she had only agreed out of a strange mixture of pity and the desire to shut him up.

"What," He began after he had sufficiently calmed himself down, though nothing outside of that throbbing temple had ever shown on his face. "Do you think I can do about it?"

Glenn snorted at that, wondering if Shane was just fucking with him now. "You were executive vice president of media and you were also consultant for talent relations. You carried some weight around here, still do, and you know it."

"If you think even I can get this decision changed, you are out of your mind. Calaway's the most respected wrestler in this company's history and as much as I may hate the bastard, he's perfect for this job. You're qualified, but… he outranks you."

"So you're saying you can't help at all?"

"I didn't say that, I just said you are out of your mind if you think I can get the decision changed."

* * *

><p>"So he's back, who cares?"<p>

"I care Lane, you should too." Mark growled, wondering if she was serious. One look at her told him she was. She was standing before the mirror of their hotel suite bathroom, plucking her eyebrows. Which he found… disturbing, he really didn't need to see everything that went into how she made herself look as beautiful as she did.

The look on her face was total concentration as she focused on stray hairs he couldn't see, not worried or caring in the slightest about the news he had just dropped on her.

When Lane seen he wasn't moving, but still staring at her with a total 'man' look on his face, she put down the tweezers. "Stop watching if you don't like seeing it."

"I love how you look, just sometimes wonder about the methods of how you preserve them looks."

"Preserve? I am not ancient yet, old timer. Besides, you don't hear me bitching about you dying your hair or trimming the facial fuzz in front of me, or in case of the dying, _asking_ for my help."

"It's different… don't change the subject."

"Mark, get over it. You already said he was back temporarily. He knows I have no interest in him and I'm sure he's moved on. He might be a sore loser but even Shane McMahon is not going to hold a grudge for over a year." She turned to embrace him, standing on her tiptoes in order to kiss his chin. "I love you, now stop it."

"Fine." He rumbled, reaching down to tap right between her brows. "Missed one."

"Jerk!"

* * *

><p>"Is it Isabeau or just Beau?"<p>

Beau whipped around and just barely caught the porcelain mug she had been about to take a sip from as it slipped from her hand. "Goddamn it!" She cursed, quickly setting it down and shaking her now burnt fingers, sending coffee droplets flying.

"Sorry." Shane pulled his pocket handkerchief out and walked over to the cooler on the catering table. After wrapping some ice in it, he turned to take her hand, pressing the makeshift ice pack against her red fingers. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine." Beau muttered, staring down at what now was a ruined cloth, silk no less. She wondered who the hell used silk handkerchiefs and immediately answered that with: people who aren't using them but showing them off. "Thanks."

"Well?"

She arched an eyebrow before remembering he had asked about her name. "Beau, I go by Beau."

"I like Isabeau."

The other eyebrow rose.

"I'm meeting the people I don't know." He said, extending his hand and smiled slightly when she awkwardly shook with the hand that wasn't burnt. "I might not be back for the long-term but while I am here, I plan to make an impact."

"An impact?"

Shane smiled at the curious look on her face. "I prefer to work with the newer talent, to see them get their chance in the spotlight." He squeezed her hand firmly before letting go. "Talent that will include you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I do still follow the… sport, even if I've been away for quite some time. You made a name for yourself outside the WWE based on talent and not for who your father is. I respect that."

Beau was pretty sure she was having a surreal moment, eyeballing him suspiciously. He was a McMahon, therefore she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, she was waiting for the 'but'.

Shane just continued smiling at her.

"But…?" She prompted.

"No buts. I've seen what you _can_ do and I've seen what you _are_ doing. Part of my time here will be helping get the newer, younger talent over; you're a part of the newer, younger talent." He glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. "I have to go. If that burn still hurts, why don't you get it checked out?"

Beau peered down at the silk wrapped around her fingers; the ice had pretty much melted at this point, leaving a wet stain on her tee shirt. "Uh, thanks. Here, your-"

"Keep it."

Beau could only cock her head and watch as he walked out of the room.


	9. A Hint of Snake

**9: A Hint of Snake**

"Did you get them refilled?"

"Yes…"

"Good. Taking them at the same time every day?"

"Yes… Jesus Lane, you sound like my- well, not my mother, she's a complete dipshit."

"Beau," Lane shot her a disapproving stare. She had heard enough about the 'hippie ex-wife from hell' from Mark, she didn't want to hear it from the woman's daughter as well. "Don't even go there. I'm just… following up. I'm pretty sure your dad couldn't handle any tiny versions of both you and Phil running around. In fact, I think even mentioning the idea to him would probably give him a mild heart attack."

"The idea gives _me_ a mild heart attack." Beau gasped, clutching her chest mockingly. "Seriously Lane, I'm takin' them every day, like I'm supposed too.

"Good. So, uh," Lane turned her back to Beau, pretending to be interested in her clipboard on the counter. "How are things? Between you and Phil, I mean."

"Good. He confiscated all my belts though." Beau said with a slight grin, giggling. "He says he'll give them to me when they pass his buckle inspection."

Lane nodded, looking mildly concerned though Beau didn't see anything but her head bobbing since her back was still to the younger woman. "I've noticed you quit smoking..."

Beau wrinkled her face at that. "Yeah."

"How'd that come about? Cold turkey isn't easy."

"I had... um... motivation."

"Phil?" When Beau nodded, Lane pinched the bridge of her nose. Everyone knew Phil's straight edge lifestyle was not just a gimmick and he abhorred drugs, booze and... cigarettes. "I've been trying to get you to quit for ages now, how'd he manage it?"

"He threw a pack out my car window." Beau practically growled, the memory causing her eyes to flash.

Lane turned around, keeping her expression calm. "Would you say he's domineering?"

It took Beau a moment to register that and when it did, she got a shrewd look on her face. "Only as domineerin' as I allow him to be." She clarified, seeing where this was heading and about to nip this in the bud. This wasn't an abusive relationship, though she could see from an outside perspective how it might maybe seem that way, in the sense of control issues. "Would you say my dad is domineerin'?"

"Only as much as I allow."

Beau grinned.

* * *

><p>"OUCH!"<p>

"Suck it up."

"Be a man."

John stared up into the smirking faces of Phil and Beau, not caring that he was lying on his side, his hands cradling his ass. "What the hell is _wrong_ with you two?" He whimpered.

"I owed you." Beau informed him, hands planted on her hips as she took in his posture. "Hurt, just a little?"

"She's my girlfriend," Phil added, throwing his head in Beau's direction. "I'm obligated to help her."

"Owed me for what?"

"Last week? Chasing me into Shane?"

"You held a grudge for an entire week?" He groaned, slowly moving onto all fours, his ass still throbbing.

"Uh... yep."

John managed to get on his feet, wincing. Phil had caught him from the front and managed to hold him still long enough for Beau to plant her bony knee in his ass... repeatedly. "I'm reporting you two..."

"For what?" Phil asked curiously, wrapping an arm around Beau as she leaned into him, both still smirking broadly.

"Aggravated assault."

"You'd have a better shot of claiming rape." Beau informed him, snickering wickedly. "You can go see Lane, tell her my knee raped your ass."

"I am not telling Lane that!"

"Tell me what?"

John groaned when he heard Lane, turning to bang his head against the wall. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"Beau raped his ass with her knee."

Lane blinked, processing that and then cleared her throat. "I'm going to walk away now."

* * *

><p>"Isabeau."<p>

Beau stepped forward when Shane called her name, taking the script he held out to her before stepping back to join the group. She was with others who were considered 'underused talent', all of them just having listened to a short but humorous speech from Shane. The gist of it was that if they were willing to work for it and take advantage of the opportunities given to them, they'd wind up out of their 'bottom feeding' positions.

She eyeballed it, ignoring the sections crossed out in red, knowing those had nothing to do with her. When she finally found what she needed to be looking at, she began smirking, looking up to find Shane smiling at her and nodded.

He flashed her a wink before passing out the next script.

* * *

><p>Phil was waiting when Beau made it backstage from her first proper live match. She had lost as scripted but she had also shown she wasn't a push-over. It helped that she had gone against Beth Phoenix as Beau towered over most of the other divas. He grinned when he seen her, her face a slight shade of pink beneath her make-up and her eyes wide and gleaming with leftover adrenaline. "How was it?"<p>

She launched herself at him, kissing him enthusiastically. "It was great!"

Laughing, he stumbled backwards, trying to hold her upright without tripping. "You did great out there, Beau." He murmured, pressing his forehead against hers, not minding the fact that she was sweating.

"Hell yes she did." Beth agreed, also looking flushed. She grinned when Beau turned to face her. "Between you, me and Nattie, I can definitely see the women's division seeing some _real_ action."

"Well, Kelly and Eve have been-"

"Longer matches Beau, with some serious action." Beth interrupted, shaking her head. "You might as well skip the automatic defense because I don't buy it."

Phil just kept his mouth shut while Beau simply nodded; neither about to get involved in what was a sensitive subject among the divas.

* * *

><p>"Hello Lane."<p>

Lane was in the middle of packing up her things when she heard that very familiar voice, rolling her eyes heavenward but not turning around. "Mr. McMahon." She returned, reaching for a stack of paperwork she needed to turn in.

"Whatever happened to Shane?"

"I wasn't aware we were on friendly terms." She said, snapping her briefcase shut and turning to face him, a thoughtful look on her face. "When we last seen each other, I do believe you had a bit of a temper issue."

Shane shrugged, holding his hands outward in a palm's up gesture and smiled apologetically. "I also apologized for it."

"You did." She had never and would never tell Mark about Shane's display, he'd probably use it as a reason to kill the McMahon prince. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I just wanted to pop in and say hi."

"Hello."

He just continued smiling, obviously not bothered by her blatant crispness. "Congratulations, by the way."

"For?"

"Being with Mark so long and still not marrying him. Undoubtedly that would have ended your relationship long before now."

"That is none of your business."

"Of course not." He clasped his hands together in front of him, eyeing her speculatively. "I do admit, Mark is a lucky man."

She arched an eyebrow, wondering where this was going.

"Beautiful girlfriend."

Lane inwardly rolled her eyes.

"Beautiful, talented daughter..."

"Stay away from Beau."

Shane looked shocked, though a hint of deviousness crept into his brown eyes. "Why would I do that? I'm working with her, helping her develop a career independent of her famous father. Beau seems to like me."

"She doesn't know you very well." Lane spit, clenching her fists tightly at her sides.

"She_ will_."


	10. Flippin'

**10: Flippin'**

"We got to work on that blushing thing you do."

Beau groaned, mostly because she was blushing again, covering her tomato red face with her hands as she stared at Shane. "Sorry!"

"Don't be sorry," He laughed, waving a dismissive hand at her. "Like I said, we'll just have to work on it." He had made each of his under-used talents give a demonstration of their mic skills, and Beau had totally failed at that one. She stuttered and did the red thing. She could wrestle, use her body as a means of conveying emotion, but that wasn't going to get her very far unless she wanted to follow in her father's 'mainly silent' role. "Tell you what, we'll go to New York this weekend, I'll get you in for some one on one with a stage trainer."

"I… what?"

"You know, to help you with your confidence when you're speaking publically. A vocal therapist, acting coach, whatever. What do you think?"

Honestly, she didn't know what to think, and it showed. Awkwardly, Beau reached back to scratch just beneath her hairline.

"If it makes you feel better, Phil can come as well."

Now that was… hey, it did make her feel better and she flashed a smile at him.

Shane returned it.

* * *

><p>"Wait, you're going to New York? Without me? You suck!"<p>

Beau smirked back over her shoulder, snickering when John point blank refused to walk alongside her. He was still having 'knee in the ass' issues two weeks after the fact, and she probably shouldn't trust him behind _her _ass but… if he knew what was good for him, he'd mind his manners. "It's work-related, you'd be bored. Besides, you already know how to speak on the mic!"

"You do too," John shot back, blue eyes glittering wickedly. "You just got to learn not to choke."

"What's this about choking?"

Beau came to a halt as Phil stepped out of his dressing room, smiling when he slung his arm around her. "Super Cena is harassin' me about my questionable mic skills."

"Oh yeah… you do choke a lot, Calaway."

"Eat me, Brooks."

He grinned, bending down to nip her bottom lip. "Later, we're in the workplace, remember?" When she flushed, he shook his head. "You need to work on that too."

"Yeah, that's one of the reasons we're goin' to New York."

"We're what?"

"Wait, he's going? So not fair!"

She shot John a 'really, bro' look, frowning. "Cena… go away, seriously." She waved her hand at him. "You're being obnoxious, did you have coffee?"

"Maybe…"

"Go on, git the hell out of here."

Grumbling, he turned and walked away, making sure she heard his 'some best buddy' remarks.

Beau made a mental note to kick his ass later.

Phil was still staring at her, totally beyond lost and confused now. "Let's backtrack a bit, we're going to New York? When was this decided?"

"Today."

"And where was I when this decision was made?"

"No idea actually."

"Okay, where were you?"

"With Shane."

Phil didn't bother hiding the annoyance he felt at hearing that, though he wasn't overly surprised either. Since Shane had started working with the under-talents, she had been spending a lot of time with the weasel, much to Phil's chagrin. Of course, she was also spending a lot of time with Evan Bourne too, that didn't bother him. Evan wasn't a weasel who had played belt-buckle rape with his girlfriend. "So, this is a decision Shane made?"

She nodded, fully aware of his feelings about the boss. "Phil… it's just for a weekend, and… you're comin' with. It'll be fun."

He snorted.

Wrapping her arms around him, Beau smiled sweetly. "Guess what else is this weekend?"

"What?" He knew he was walking into some sort of trap, eyes narrowing. It wasn't their anniversary, they hadn't been together even six months and if she was the kind of woman who celebrated that shit, they were done. It wasn't her birthday…

"Comic Con."

How in the blue hell had he forgotten _that_?

* * *

><p>"Glennie!"<p>

Glenn whirled in time to catch Beau when she came flying at him, grunting when four limbs wrapped around him and tried not to go falling backwards onto his ass. "Whatever it is you want, honey, the answer is no."

"But… you're like… family! You're my uncle 'n shit!"

"Beau, no." Glenn set her down, frowning when she held on tighter. "Beau… what'd you do?"

"I haven't done nothing! Yet." She pulled back to look into his face, smiling sweetly. "But my dad is currently flippin' his shit right now. I need you to calm him down."

Considering Glenn wanted nothing more than to knock Mark into next year, still, he didn't see himself calming the other man down anytime soon. But… he couldn't exactly tell her that. "Why is he flipping his shit?" He asked, sighing as he put her down.

"Because of Shane."

Now that almost brought a smirk to his lips. Shane probably wasn't even trying to get under Mark's skin but doing it inadvertently. Doing it through Beau was… perfect. "What about him?" He grunted, falling in step with her as they began walking down the hallway.

"He's takin' me and some others to New York for the weekend, to work on our acting and mic skills. And my blushin' thing. Mark's flippin' about it, says I can't go."

"And did you remind Mark you're a grown ass woman?"

"Actually, Brooks did…"

"What Punk have to say?"

"That I'm an adult who is legally able to tell anyone I want, including my pops, to go fuck himself and to quit runnin' my life."

Glenn whistled. "Bet Mark didn't take that kindly."

"Nope, Brooks is currently being treated for a concussion." She frowned slightly. "Mark tossed him through a door, he was pretty- ah fuck."

"You're not going."

Glenn stepped forward, not missing the venom in Mark's flinty gaze. "Now, let's calm down and-"

"Glenn, fuck off. Isabeau Marigold Calaway, you best stop hidin' behind him and get out here. Face me like the 'adult' you supposedly are."

Beau snorted, keeping her ass firmly planted behind her godfather/uncle/whatever he was. "Comin' from the grown man who just threw a bitch fit and injured a coworker… yeah, no, I'm just fine back here."

"Now-"

"Mark Calaway, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Outwardly, Glenn was pinching the bridge of his nose, inside he was laughing his ass off. The look on Lane's normally calm, cheery face was priceless.

"You do not put your hands on your coworkers!"

"The little bastard was lippin' off!" Mark growled, less than pleased when his much smaller girlfriend actually planted her palm against his chest and shoved. "Woman!"

"I don't care what he was doing! That is the most irresponsible thing ever! Especially coming from _you_." Lane was furious. With Phil currently being carted off to the local hospital, she had gotten dragged from her normal gig into Alex's world of actually being a medic. No, she was not a happy camper at all. Not to mention this little stunt was going to wind up costing him. "Did you even think about what this is going to do to you getting that job?"

He hadn't and it showed, gritting his teeth.

Oh yeah, Glenn was positively thrilled.


	11. Parental Explosion

**11: Parental Explosion**

"Your dad has serious, serious issues, Beau." Phil commented, tearing his eyes off the mounted television and turned his gaze onto her. When he seen she was distracted by the cartoons, he poked her in the side. "You hear me?"

"I heard, hush… I wanna watch this." Beau teased, shifting on the narrow hospital bed until she was facing him when he turned off the TV. "Okay, it's time for a serious talk, isn't it?"

He considered that, finally shaking his head. "Nope, just making an observation about your genetic contributor's mental state." His own personal reminder was throbbing on the back of his stitched up skull. Going through a door had hurt, and left him out of action for the rest of the week. He moved over as much as he could, watching as she scooted up until she was sitting next to him and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I'm going to miss Comic Con with you, Beau." He said quietly, knowing she was supposed to leave for New York tomorrow morning. "I'm going to be stuck here."

She had already figured that, hiding a frown under a playful smirk. "What? No Gambit to my Rogue?"

"As if I would ever go as Gambit." He replied with an eye-roll, smiling for a brief moment. "Too overrated."

"You're just jealous that he can shuffle cards."

"You got me. Seriously, Beau, just… be careful, all right? I know you think I'm paranoid but I don't trust Shane. Your dad doesn't either."

"You just said my dad has issues." She pointed out.

"Yeah, he does. But he's not wrong about Shane either. His methods of getting you to listen to him are what's totally fucked up." Phil shook his head, wondering just where Calaway had picked up his parenting skills at. "If we ever have kids, we're NOT treating them the way he does you, that is- is…" He trailed off when he realized she was staring at him with an open mouth. "I just said when we, didn't I?"

"Uh huh…" Beau was turning red, reaching back to rub her neck and cleared her throat awkwardly. "Bit soon to be thinkin' about that, eh Brooks?"

"It's the drugs talking, ignore me."

She arched an eyebrow skeptically.

"Seriously!"

* * *

><p>"Oh no, parentals… God, go away, both of you." Beau ordered later in the night, groaning when she spotted both Mark and Lane leaning in the hall outside her hotel room. Lane looked like she was now on-board the crazy train, not cool. "Seriously guys, it's just a weekend in New York, with <em>other<em> people besides Shane. Get with the program."

"Beau, I'm sorry about Phil, I was overreactin'." Mark said instantly, ignoring the nudge he had gotten from Lane as a prompt. Damn woman, making him apologize… considering the kid had been shooting off his ever-running mouth, he deserved a reminder to mind his tongue. "But that don't change the fact that you ain't go-"

Lane elbowed him again.

"That you _shouldn't_," He shot her a dark look. "Go."

"I'm going and I'm also going to bed, ya'all mind leavin'?" Beau approached the door, sighing when her dad blocked her from accessing it. "Look, I get it, you don't like Shane, but it's not like I'm going to be there without other people. Evan's going."

"Beau-"

"And Phil _would_ have gone, you know, if he didn't have a wickedly awesome concussion that's keeping him in the hospital." She added scathingly.

"Beau, there are… issues, that you're not aware of." Lane began, knowing Mark was going to muck this all up and drive his daughter right into enemy territory. "Surrounding Shane, and-"

"He's my boss, Lane, you really want me to tell him to fuck off?"

"Yes." Mark said bluntly.

"No! I mean, I-"

"Tellin' him to fuck off is a damn good idea, and you're going to do it."

"Mark…" Beau pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling through her open mouth. "This is my career, okay? So back off."

"You're not-"

"What he means-"

"Lane, will you shut up and let me talk!"

Lane scowled up at him, not appreciating being hollered at and planted her fists on her hips. "Don't you yell at me, Mark Calaway, or I'll pop you one in the jaw."

Beau was secretly hoping to witness this, watching wide eyed as they started going back and forth. She could not recall, ever, seeing Lane and Mark going at it like they were now. Sure, they had their regular tiffs like any other couple, but nothing like this.

"Don't tell me how to raise her!"

"She's already raised you fool! She's an adult! All you're doing is pushing her away!"

"You're not her damn mother Lane, so quit actin' like it!"

Beau flinched, watching as Lane recoiled like she had just been physically struck. She actually felt bad for the other woman, who was sort of a second mother to her. Definitely much better than her actual mother… that was for damn sure.

Mark seemed to realize what he had just said and paled beneath his tan, reaching out towards the visibly shaken Lane. "Darlin', I-"

Shaking her head, Lane turned and walked away. Before she had even reached the end of the hall, both Beau and Mark could hear the sobs she was trying to repress.

"Smooth, dad, real smooth." Beau muttered, shoving him out of her way so she could get into her room.

Mark watched blankly as she disappeared, wincing when the door slammed shut behind her. He raked a hand through his hair, groaning. He had just royally fucked up.

* * *

><p>"Is there going to be an inquiry into the incident?"<p>

Shane had to take a moment to realize what Glenn was asking him, rolling his eyes as he poured himself a tumbler of bourbon. Honestly, he had completely forgotten about Glenn's little 'request' to try to get Mark out of the position he had been offered.

He supposed, in retrospect, he was actually doing a fairly decent job of putting Calaway out of Glenn's misery. Apparently, Beau was the best way to stir things up, and he was very interested in Isabeau, for several reasons.

"Probably, I'm not exactly in that loop, Glenn." He said after a moment, wondering just how many times he had to tell this idiot that. Glenn really was a piece of work. The man was letting his jealousy override his common sense, and Shane idly wondered how _that_ was going to work out for him.

"Hmm." Glenn fell silent for a brief moment. "Leavin' for New York tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"With Beau?"

"And others, it's a group thing, Glenn." He really did feel like he was talking to the village moron, barely hiding his disdain. "Why?"

Glenn hesitated. "She's like a daughter to me, Shane, you know? So… watch it, got me?"

"Loud and clear."


	12. Trust Exercise Fail

**12: Trust Exercise Fail**

"Oh this sucks ass…"

"Miss Calaway, say it with a straight face."

Beau really tried not to look amused, but the acting coach she had been sent too was… weird. Like, really weird, and he was making her do and say shit that was not going to help her at all. "You seriously want me to say it, with a straight face?" She hadn't said it out of anything but annoyance.

"Yes."

Shrugging, she repeated herself, the corner of her mouth quirking.

"Straight face."

Again.

"No, a straight face, stop thinking this is amusing. Say it with a straight face, like you're talking about the weather."

Beau groaned, this was going to be a long, long day.

* * *

><p>"That sucked, can't I be a mime?"<p>

Evan snickered at the serious look on Beau's face, shaking his head. "Sure, we'll dye your hair black, get wardrobe to put you in those black suspenders, you can even wear greasepaint and red circles on your cheeks!"

"Why would she need red circles?"

Beau buried her face in her hands when Evan began the mime thing all over again for Shane's benefit. "Really guys?"

It was just the three of them, the other members of their 'group' having gone off to do their own thing before meeting up later in the night for another coaching session with one of the 'trainers' Shane had hired. Professional entertainment trainers, it was great, really. After the seriously embarrassing learning how to speak without stuttering or blushing session, she and Evan had decided to go grab a bite to eat. Shane had tagged along because he had 'nothing pressing to do'.

"Here." Shane began passing out the baskets of loaded hotdogs and fries before dropping down at the table with them, looking just as casual as he could be in jeans and a white button up shirt. It was as casual as Shane ever went.

Beau eyeballed the extremely over hotdog and then looked up at Shane. "Seriously?" The last thing she wanted to do was make herself look like a pig in front of the guy helping her build her career.

"Try not to take offense at this Isabeau, but considering your height and your build, I'm going to venture out on a limb and assume you don't live off of salads and fat free dressing." He smiled apologetically at her from across the table, ignoring Evan's snort.

"She doesn't." Evan managed to get out from around his mouthful. "She'll eat a whole pizza by herself."

"Screw you, we're not sharing a room anymore." She sniped, before returning Shane's smile. "But he's right, I will."

"You look pretty fit to me."

Bolstered by the semi-compliment, she dug in.

* * *

><p>"It's a trust exercise."<p>

"He's out of his mind."

"Beau, if we get partnered, I'm not catching you. No offense, eh, love?" Layla grinned, nudging the bigger woman with an elbow.

"Saying I'm fat?" Beau shot back playfully. Layla had been scheduled to do a thing with Michelle McCool, which hadn't panned out when Michelle wound up benched due to tearing a muscle and surgery. Layla had gotten stuck in the 'bottom feeder' group with the rest of them.

"You're not fat, you're heavy."

"This is true." She was, it was from being muscular.

"Calaway, you got something you want to say?" Shouted the instructor, looking less then pleased by her having a conversation and not paying any attention to him.

"Uh, no?"

"You seemed to have plenty to say to your friend."

Beau tried not to snicker when Layla edged to hide behind her. "Nope."

"Up here."

She groaned, weaving her way through her coworkers and stepping purposefully on Evan's foot –he was sniggering- as she stopped right at the steps to the raised platform. "Yes, sir?"

"Catch me."

Beau had honestly expected him to turn, do a count and then fall backwards. That's how she remembered this exercise from summer camp and high school. No, he did not do that. What he did was literally dive at her, face first.

She had gone into survival mode, caught him, and slammed him.

Silence reigned in the room, except for the sound of someone trying desperately not to laugh.

It was Shane. His face was beet red, his hand covering the lower half of his face, and his body was trembling as he tried to repress it.

He snorted, once, and the entire room began cackling.

_Dear baby Jesus, take me now._ She thought miserably.

* * *

><p>"How was your first day of 'entertainment' training?"<p>

Beau was really glad Phil hadn't come. He would have laughed her to hell and back. "It was horrible. I body slammed one of my instructors." She didn't want to admit it, but she figured it would be best if it came from her and not Evan, who had apparently caught the fiasco on his cell phone. "Evan has video of it."

"You… what?"

She explained the incident, not surprised when he began doing exactly what she thought he would and laughed his backside off. "Seriously, Brooks?"

"Calaway, you the best, really…" He sounded like he might've been crying. "I'm going to text Evan just as soon as we're done."

"You're a jerk."

"Baby, that is just hilarious. The poor guy… how is he, d'ya know?"

"Um, he quit."

"He quit?"

"He quit."

"What a pansy."

"I slammed him pretty hard… the floor wasn't really all that giving… I'm surprised he's not suing…" That could still be a possibility though Shane had said he would take care of it, providing he could keep himself from laughing in the poor guy's face.

"If they let me out in the morning like they say they're going to, I'm going to come there, sound good?"

"Uh yeah?" Sounded great, considering they weren't leaving until Monday morning. "How's the head?"

"Looks like I got plowed by the Undertaker, but manageable. They finally took my threats seriously and stopped medicating me." He did not appreciate being drugged, well… he appreciated the lack of pain, but the idea of why there was no pain didn't sit well with him. "I'm a total spaz when I'm drugged up, Beau."

"I noticed." She had also noticed how his tone had gotten serious, wondering what he was about to drop on her.

"I don't think about us having kids, I just want you to know that. I mean, not that I wouldn't, but not right now, you know? It was just one of those random things that popped out, I wanted you to know that."

"Phil, shut up. I know what you mean and it's fine. I don't want kids either, and I definitely don't want to think about them so soon in the game."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "So we're good?"

"Yep, we're good."


	13. Dramatic

**13: Dramatic**

"I think it's time to admit it Shane, a single weekend is going to do nothing for me. I'm a lost cause."

Shane rubbed his temples, not wanting to admit it. To admit was to surrender to defeat and he just couldn't do that. "No, not true… I'm sure, if you were to try just a little bit harder…" He groaned when she cocked an eyebrow his way and gestured for the bartender to bring him a fresh drink. "Yeah, no, you're right, lost cause."

"Told you." She snorted, sipping at her own drink, just a plain club soda. She didn't drink very much and never with the boss, that was a rule nobody needed to tell her not to break. "And I did try."

"Mmm…" He considered her before taking a healthy swig of his scotch, wincing as it burned a trail down his throat. "Maybe. Or maybe you're purposefully trying to sabotage everything so you can get out of it."

"Sure Shane, I'm trying to get out of a free ride to New York and Comic Con."

"Keep messing up and you're paying for your portion of this trip, Izzy."

"Izzy?" She nearly choked on her soda. "I thought you liked Isabeau?"

"It's long sometimes."

"So call me Beau like everyone else."

"I don't like Beau, I like Izzy."

"You're my boss, I think you're playing unfairly here."

He considered that, smiling down at the counter of the bar. "Probably. I am a McMahon."

She shrugged, that pretty much explained it all. "Tomorrow-"

"Is your comic book thing, I know. Evan and Layla said you guys wanted to go, it's fine. Just… not all day, you guys have to do something productive or the board might revoke the whole 'we'll pay for it' deal we got. I'm guessing Brooks isn't going to make it?"

"Nope. He called this morning, he's going to be AWOL." Beau sighed at that, deciding to overlook the comic book 'thing' and instead focus on debating whether or not she should flatten the tires to every motorcycle Mark owned.

"Mmm… Poor guy. I thought your dad had toned down on his temper." Shane shook his head when he was offered another drink. He planned on finishing this one and calling it a night. "You know, mellowed with age."

"You're talking about the Undertaker, he's not known for mellow. More likely wildly dramatic… like… drag queen dramatic."

Shane choked on what was left of his scotch, quickly snatching a napkin and bringing it to his face to catch what he had spat out. "Isabeau!" He groaned, reaching for a second to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Christ that burns…"

"What?" She sipped her water, looking at him out big, innocent eyes.

He stared into those too innocent eyes. They reminded him of Mark, the same color, the same damn deviousness hidden under the fake innocence. "You suck." He said finally, looking away from her.

"I know, I know." She slid off the bar stool, reaching in her pocket and pulling out some crumpled bills before dropping them on the counter. "See you tomorrow Shane."

"Night, Izzy." He smirked, listening as she softly cursed as she walked away.

* * *

><p>"What the hell you guys?" Shane knew that the trio had been planning on going to that comic thing today, but he hadn't been expecting them to come back like this. Speaking of three, he only seen Layla and Evan.<p>

"What?" Layla frowned, looking down at herself and then at Evan. "We didn't have time to stop and change."

"Layla, you're blue." Shane pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are… what movie? I know this movie."

"Avatar." She supplied helpfully. She was blue, yes, and still had some stuff glued to her, such as fake ears, but at least she had slipped on jeans and a shirt over her costume in the cab. She could only imagine the expression on everyone's face if she had strolled in wearing her loincloth and carrying a weapon.

"Uh huh…" Shane focused on Evan. "You're green…."

"I'm Toad." Evan hadn't bothered changing at all.

"Toad?"

"X-Men."

"I see…" He didn't want to know anymore. "And Isabeau-"

"I'm here. I got asked to pose with some kid." Beau strolled into the room next, looking amused.

Shane's jaw dropped. He recognized this look from cartoons way back when. "That is… your hair?"

She reached up to finger the white strands that kept falling into her eyes, over the black band she had worn. "Yeah. I got this part bleached… last night actually… The brown is just a tint, it'll wash right out, in a day or two."

He was trying not to eyeball her costume. Or go blind, she was wearing thigh high yellow boots….

"I'm Rogue." She would never admit that she had spent more than she wanted on obtaining her costume, but… Comic Con!

"I see that…" Complete with gloves and a brown leather, bomber jacket. "You three…"

Blue, Green, and Skunk all had the decency to look guilty.

Shane ran a hand through his hair, finally shrugging. "Whatever I guess, I hope that blue and green comes off before the show tomorrow night."

Layla hadn't considered that and frowned.

* * *

><p>"Help!"<p>

"I'm scrubbing, it's not MY fault you wanted to be blue!"

"You're the one who painted it on me!"

"You asked me too!"

"Ladies, what the-"

"SHANE!"

Being yelled at by both Layla and Isabeau made for a lovely migraine, especially since they both were shrill. He shook his head, trying to clear the ringing in his ears. "We have a show in an hour, and you two are… still… Layla, go to make-up and see if they can't help."

"Everyone will see me!" Layla wasn't totally blue anymore, she was more like mocha and blue swirls, and her hair was soaked from the numerous washings that involved a lot of Dawn dish soap. "I will never, ever do that again…"

"Whatever, you loved it."

"Loincloth and all."

"Layla," Shane's tone held a hint of impatience. "Make-up, now."

Layla scooted.

Beau fidgeted under his stare, frowning slightly when he reached out. "What are- oh." She grinned when he wrapped a strand of her hair that was still white around his finger. "I'll get it covered."

"It's cute." He was pleased to see that the brown was mostly gone and her red was shining through rather vibrantly. "How do you feel about learning some aerial moves?"

"What?" She was reeling over him calling her hair cute.

"You and Evan work well together, it was just a thought. You're still going to wrestle solo, but I thought you might want to expand your arsenal…"

"That'd… be cool." She stepped back when he let go of her hair, reaching up to smooth it down and prayed her cheeks were three shades of red.

He smiled down at her. Her cheeks were indeed flaming, he found it rather attractive. "We could discuss it more later, over coffee?" He knew better than to say 'dinner', she was supposedly in a relationship with Brooks. How on earth that worked out was beyond him. Brooks was… a jackass.

"Uh, let me- Phil!"

Shane felt Phil brushing by him and took a step backwards, watching impassively as Beau threw her arms around Brooks. Supposedly, no, they were a thing. That was just disturbing. He waited, smiling coolly when Phil finally let go of her and shifted so his arm was draped around her shoulders. "Nice stitches, Mark did quite the number, didn't he?"

"Yeah well, man's got a temper and I provoked it." Phil didn't care much for Mark, he cared less for Shane.

"Hmm." Shane nodded at Beau. "We'll talk more later, all right?"

"Sure."

Phil waited until little bossman was gone before turning to eyeball her. "Rogue, huh?" He wasn't about to ask anything about Shane, not right off the bat. He didn't trust McMahon, but he hadn't seen her all weekend and wanted to know the fun stuff before hearing the irritating crap.

"I told you I would. You should've seen the outfit… skin tight, covered from-" Beau's smile slipped at the sight of Mark coming. She wasn't going to catch a break tonight. "Head to toe… in yellow and green…"

"Sounds hot. Go away, Calaway."

"Beau, darlin', I-"

"Did you apologize to Lane?"

He wasn't about to admit it, but no. It didn't help that Lane wasn't letting him get close enough to talk to her, or that she wasn't replying to his calls, and she had started rooming with her friends from the staff. "I just wanted-"

"Apologize to Phil?"

"Hell no."

"Yeah, go away, Mark." Beau wasn't ready to talk to him just yet.

"Isabeau…"

"Old man, she said go away." Phil had had it with her overbearing father who didn't seem to care who he squished, so long as Beau was under his thumb. "Now fuck off."

"Looking for another concussion, son?"

* * *

><p>Shane listened to the exchange, keeping his distance and out of sight. He was lurking, yes, but… it was really for the best of the company. Mark was obviously still a violent and temperamental man, he might not be best choice for that job he was offered after all, especially if he kept hurting the younger talents.<p>

Not that he would overly care if Brooks wound up back in the hospital. It meant he had more time with Beau without worrying about being interrupted, or annoyed. Actually, Mark and Brooks going at it was a great thing, now that he thought about it.

Smirking, he walked off. He had heard enough.


	14. Provocation

**Because she has been so great about me being horrible on updating this, I would like to say 'Thank You!' to JVottoGurl, who requested this fic way back in 2011 and hasn't given up on it yet. **

* * *

><p><strong>14: Provocation <strong>

"This is bullshit!"

"I'm sorry Mark, but the board feels-"

"The _board_? Last I knew, dickhead, you were just here to work with the rookies."

Shane idly picked lint off the sleeve of his designer suit, smirking inwardly at just how perilously close Mark was to losing his temper and doing something stupid. It had been a month since New York and his brilliant idea, a month that had gone… rather smoothly, for him. "Yes well, I've decided to stay on a bit longer and the board decided to reinstate my former rank, along with additional… privileges."

Mark clenched and unclenched his fists, trying not to take a swing.

"And you have proven that you are not suitable at all for the position. I know you're due to start after Wrestlemania, but..."

"Show me someone else you think is more qualified." Mark challenged.

"I can think of a person or two, but the fact of the matter is, Mark, you are no longer suitable. You've laid your hands on Brooks one time too many."

"He's-"

"Dating your daughter, yes, I know. You of all people should be able to keep your personal and professional life separate." Shane was loving this, unable to keep the wicked glint from showing in his eyes. "Liaison to the talent cannot be someone who actively injures said talent."

"You're a son of a bitch, McMahon." Mark said finally, knowing damn well the once a week fight he tended to have with his daughter's jackass boyfriend didn't really look that good but still… everything else and he was a damn professional. "You know I'm the-"

"You're having issues with members of the health staff, are you not? Lane in particular I believe…"

"Stay the fuck away from her." That was _none_ of Shane's business and it was not his fault Lane had decided to publically announce that they were on a 'break' in their relationship. When he had tried talking to her –in front of her damn female friends, no less- he had gotten exasperated and come out of that looking like an even bigger jackass.

Only one trainer would deal with him now.

"From Lane?" Shane's eyes widened innocently, a look that wasn't natural for a McMahon. "Your… hmm, is your ex now or are you two still on 'break'? Think she'd give me the time of day finally?"

"Not a fuckin' chance."

"How about Isabeau?" Shane was still keeping his voice innocent, knowing damn well that there was nobody lurking outside his door. He had claimed his 'office' at the ass end of a hallway for a specific reason. Baiting Mark. "She seems to like me well enough."

Lane knew Shane was a snake, Mark didn't think for one second she would so much as piss on Shane's teeth if his gums were on fire. Beau, however, seemed to think Shane was her friend and by the way Shane was smirking… "If you so much as _think_ of my daughter in any way but as an employee, I will tear you a part." He threatened through gritted teeth.

"Well, Mark, let me be totally honest with you for a moment," Shane clasped his hands behind his back, shifting so he was in a casual stance. "Isabeau, or Izzy, I like Izzy, is a beautiful, beautiful girl and I think… we have a… connection, if you will. One that I definitely would love to…"

Mark lost it.

* * *

><p>"What the hell?"<p>

Mark groaned when he heard his daughter's voice, trying to twist around to see her but felt a Taser being pressed threateningly into his side. He kept his ass still, big man he was, and no stranger to pain, but electricity coursing throughout your body was a pain nobody needed. Security was holding him until the local boys came to pick him up, he was definitely spending the night in jail. "Beau…"

"He attacked Mr. McMahon."

"Uh, thank you…" Beau could never remember these floater's names. She took in the scene before her. Her dad was facing the wall, hands laced behind his head, with the entire security team surrounding him, Tasers out. Shane was… being tended to by a medic, bare from the top up. What was really disturbing was the already bruising flesh. It looked like someone had used his torso as a punching bag. "Oh… no, Dad, please tell me-"

"Damn right I did." Mark grunted, not bothering to try looking at her again. "Beau, darlin', you need to-"

"He has to go to the hospital." John announced, interrupting Mark as he finished his examination. "We're going to need x-rays."

Shane groaned, his head lolling as he stared up at the ceiling. He hurt like hell, looked like shit, but was rather happy. "I can't, I have to work."

"Uh, no, Shane, you have to go make sure nothing is broken." John countered, frowning slightly. "I'll get someone to-"

"No." Shane pushed him away, stumbling as he tried to right himself, only to wind up doubled over, arms folded around himself. "Christ!"

Beau felt herself being shoved aside as the boys in blue finally showed up, finally cottoning on that her dad had done this. He had assaulted the boss, the guy who was helping her build herself up in this stupid company. "I'll take him."

"Fuck no you won't!" Mark made the mistake of turning, aggressively, and was met with aggression in return. "Sonbitch!" He croaked, not sure how he had gotten onto his knees, or why he was suddenly now lying flat, everything on fire and possibly twitching.

Shane was watching, looking pale. "Izzy, no, I'm fine, I'll-" He took one step forward and groaned, being caught by John. "Wrap me and I'll-"

"You have to go." John glanced at Beau. "You scheduled for tonight?"

"Not until the end of the show."

"All right, get him to the hospital, I'll call ahead."

* * *

><p>"You've lost your damn mind."<p>

Of all the people he expected to bail him out, Lane was not the person first on his very short list. Mark looked up from his place on the floor, feeling like squirming under the look she was giving him through the bars that separated them. "Lane…"

"Not. A. Word." She said through gritted teeth, stepping back so the deputy could unlock the cell door. She waited until he was finally before her before letting out a long sigh. "You lost the position, you know that, right?"

"Shane made sure to rub it in." He said flatly.

"So you beat him for it?"

"He's after Beau."

Lane's pink painted lips turned further down, going from mild frown to worried frown instantly. "Is that… Mark… you're playing right into his hands."

"Lane, that's my daughter, and she thinks the damn sun shines out his ass!"

"Don't yell at me or I'll go tell them I changed my mind about posting your bail." She was back to tense, staring up at him, her chin stiff as she tried steeling herself. She loved this giant idiot but… he was going to drive her to an early grave.

"Why did you?" He couldn't keep himself from sounding gruff.

"Because I'm an idiot. Come on, let's get out of here."

Even though this had been a very shitty night, and he was damn sure Shane would press charges, and his daughter was walking into a very bad deal, when Lane slipped her hand in his… Mark felt… happy.

* * *

><p>"Beau, we need to talk."<p>

Beau was dead tired. Taking Shane to the hospital had taken long enough, and she was feeling guilty about her dad using him as a bopper. Then her match had sucked, and she had been on the receiving end of a botched move, which was why she was now propping her leg on pillows, covered in ice packs. "Okay." She watched as Phil settled himself on the bed beside her, offering him a smile. "Must you look so serious?"

"Yes." Phil bounced in place on the bed, tonguing his lip ring, which was something he did when he got antsy. "Look, we've been together for… awhile now, right?"

She nodded slowly.

"So, I've been thinking, about us… and… well, us…"

Now she was really curious. Phil did not usually have loss of words issues. That was her. "Spit it out, Brooks."

"Ithinkweshouldlivetogether."

"The hell? Say it-"

"I think we should move in together."

She blinked.

"Look, we practically live together on the road, and honestly when was the last time we actually took our days off and went home?" He had been thinking about this for a few weeks now, and he figured it was a sign of how serious he was getting about being with her that he was actually considering this step. "I mean, if you think it's too soon, or-"

"Can we stay in Chicago?"

Now he was blinking, finally comprehending what she had said and grinned. "Is that a yes, Calaway?"

"Oh _hell_ yes, Brooks."


	15. Rough Night

**15: Rough Night**

"This is ridiculous, John."

"No, no it's not, Beau." John shook his head, refusing to allow her to ruin his night. Well, ruin it further, she had already murdered it when she announced she was moving in with Punk. "This is us, celebrating the end of our friendship."

Beau glared at him, tempted to reach over and smack him. Phil had asked her one week ago today about moving in, but so far, she hadn't actually moved in. mostly because they had been busy as hell with work, but… silver lining was that this week they had actually gotten the same two days off. The plan was to go grab her crap from her apartment in Tulsa and then head to Chicago, where he had an apartment of his own. Well, their own, now.

So tonight, John had insisted on dragging her out for drinks –something Phil wanted nothing to do with- to celebrate the end of their 'friendship', convinced this was the final nail in the coffin for her being allowed to be his 'bestie'.

"This is stupid, John. We've been friends for how long?"

"Forever."

"Lie, but still."

"You don't hang with me anymore, Beau."

"Dude, you're married, and we're both busy, and I'm-"

"So far up Phil's ass…"

"Cenana, one more word and I will murder you. Don't think I won't."

John snorted, leaning back and eyeballed her, taking a long drink of his concoction, something he had ordered without knowing what it was. He had ordered her one too and she was slamming the damn thing, probably because she was annoyed with him. "I'm just saying, you really don't have time for me anymore." He could admit it, his feelings were hurt.

Beau's attitude dropped at the sadness in those adorable blue eyes and felt guilty. It was true that she was spending less time with her bestest bud, but things were just so hectic. Working on her career with Shane and the group, Phil… dealing with her psycho dad who was currently on suspension… "I'm sorry."

"Make it up to me?"

He was a bi-polar howler monkey. "How?"

John was already up, pulling her out of the booth. "Let's dance!"

* * *

><p>Whatever it was John had given her to drink was on her 'never touch again' list. Isabeau groaned, coughing up the five bucks the woman manning the 'freshen up' station was charging for a tiny bottle of mouthwash and a single, cheap tooth brush and got to work on scouring her mouth out. Dancing and getting drunk on green stuff, followed by very energetic dancing… perfect recipe for a barf fest. She was still feeling pretty toasted, but also less woozy in the stomach. Probably because everything that had been in her stomach was now rushing off down the sewers. Ew.<p>

Once she was certain there was no more vomit in her mouth, and her breath wasn't reeking, she left the fairly crowded bathroom. Where was her buddy… she spotted him, groaning. He was on the dance floor, in the middle of a circle, showing off… Downside to being friends with someone like John Cena, a show off and famous to boot. She gave it her best effort, trying to reach him, and wound up getting shoved backwards twice before deciding he was a big boy and she was calling it a night.

After one more drink.

Beau called herself a cab, had two more while waiting, and then even managed to fall asleep for the duration of the ride once she was settled in the backseat. When the driver announced they had arrived, she pried her eyes open and blearily looked out the window. "Ugh…"

"Rough night, miss?"

"Something like that." She managed to pass a handful of bills over the seat, flashed what she hoped wasn't too drunk of a smile, and slid her butt out of the cab. The fresh air didn't clear her head, it only made her feel more tipsy and Beau wouldn't lie, it felt somewhat good. Now that the contents of her stomach weren't there to bounce around anyways.

She made it inside without incident and then to the elevator, hesitating slightly as she squinted at the buttons. Maybe she'd take the stairs…

She probably shouldn't have topped herself off with those extra drinks.

* * *

><p>Shane had been refilling his bucket of ice when he heard muttering. He turned from his bent over position and looked over his shoulder, arching a brow when he spotted Beau Calaway come stumbling out the stairwell door. She was talking under her breath to herself and came to a stop, turning to eyeball the plaque on the wall that told the floor number.<p>

"Well sumbitch… you a six or a nine?" She tilted her head.

Shaking his head, Shane straightened and set his bucket down on top of the machine. "Izzy?" He walked towards her, tilting his head as well. "It's a six, Isabeau."

"I see that." Beau muttered, one eye closed. "How're you tonight, Shane-O?"

"Sober. How about you?"

"Fucked up."

"I can tell." He got himself upright again, then grabbed her and tilted her back to her proper vertical position. "How much did you have to drink?"

"What floor are you on?"

"Uh… not this one." Beau went to tilt her head down again. "Are we sure this is a six?"

"We're sure." Shane said dryly, shaking his head. "Damn Izzy, you smell."

She sniffed herself, frowning. "Phil is gonna hate that… he don't like it when I drink."

Shane smiled to himself. Her accent was in full force, and slurring. He knew what she had said but it sounded like "…don't lahke it when Ah drink." He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against him. "C'mon Izzy, I'll get you upstairs to Brooks."

"M'k." Beau yawned, raising a hand up to lazily cover her mouth.

He watched as she leaned into him and began guiding her away from the stairs, towards the elevator. He wasn't surprised in the slightest when she didn't even notice him walking her right past the elevator.


	16. Think About It

**16: Think About it**

**B**eau was never going out again, that was her resolution of the month. Once the hangover abated, she expected her resolution to last as long as it took John to invite her out again. Speaking of John, she would admit to being surprised that he hadn't blown up her phone since she had bailed on his showing off ass.

She rolled out of the bed, keeping her eyes closed, and stretched. Her head mildly ached now, and she was grateful for the quiet. The moment sunlight and noise invaded, she was going to feel like a jackhammer was pounding behind her temples. Obviously, she knew all this from experience.

"Here."

Beau's startled hazel-green eyes flew open at the low voice, and she cursed, clenching them shut. "Shane?" She couldn't keep the question out of her tone, beginning to think back on her night and what she could remember of it.

"Yes."

Something, a bottle, was pressed in her palm and Beau cracked one eye open to see what she was now holding. Water. She then realized he was also extending Advil, which she gratefully took. "Um… your room?"

He nodded, watching as she swallowed down the pills and flashed an awkward smile of his own. "You were pretty toasted last night," That was actually a serious understatement. "You were having issues reading signs… finding your floor… walking…"

She vaguely remembered something about a nine, or was it a six? "God… Shane, I…" Beau didn't even know where to begin, and gave herself a moment by sipping the water, her gaze landing behind him. The hotel room couch had been slept on and given that she had woken up in the bed… "I really put you out, didn't I?"

"Better that then something happening to you, Isabeau." He frowned slightly. "I thought you went out with John? Where was he?"

"Uh, I left him behind. Look, I appreciate what you did for me, and I'm sorry for imposing…" She was such a jackass, and she could only pray her dad never found out about this. This was the height of unprofessional and he would beat the ever lovin' hell out of her for it. "I-"

"Izzy, it's fine. You're young and you're entitled to have fun." Shane interrupted, looking more amused than put out, seeing how distressed she was. "Why don't you eat something before you go? I bet your stomach is giving you hell."

That was just… not what she was expecting and Isabeau could only nod her head, instantly regretting it because that caused her headache to really kick up a notch. "Um, okay."

"And… maybe a shower." He added, wrinkling his nose.

"Definitely." She smelled disgusting. "I really am sorry about this…"

"It's fine, your breath is not."

* * *

><p><strong>T<strong>o say Phil was pissed would have been a serious understatement. He minded a bit that Beau had gone out drinking, but that was because of his own beliefs. However, he knew he couldn't go imposing said beliefs on her, he had already taken away her cigarettes. But… the problem with her and alcohol was the fact that she had slept in Shane McMahon's hotel room. Beau had told him all about it, which, on some level, he appreciated. She was being honest with him, that was good. Her sleeping in another man's room, not so much.

"Phil…"

"Beau, just… no, stop talking." He ordered, staring at her almost blankly. "I am having a real issue with this right now, and I'm trying _not_ to be a dick."

"I can-"

"Explain?" He laughed humorlessly. "You already did. You were so drunk you couldn't see straight and woke up in Shane McMahon's bed."

"Okay, when you put it like that-"

"Exactly, doesn't sound too good, does it?"

"Nothing happened!"

He sighed, running a hand down his face and shook his head. "I want to believe you Beau, I really do but… I need some time, okay? I got to think about this."

Her dad beating his ass repeatedly wasn't a deal breaker, her drinking with John wasn't a deal breaker, but Shane McMahon was definitely a deal breaker. He knew that weasel had had his fair share of divas, and they seemed to flock to him because of his wealth and relatively good looks… what made Beau so different?

Yeah, he really had to think about this.

* * *

><p><strong>"T<strong>hought you were movin' in with Brooks?"

"Shut up."

Lane looked at Beau over her cup of coffee, a bit surprised that Beau had even walked into the house. Beau didn't live with her dad, she had her own apartment in the city that she usually resided in, but Mark had always kept a room open for her at the ranch. Speaking of Mark, Lane noted that he hadn't taken being told to 'shut up' all that well, his face turning red. He had serious issues about being disrespected in his own house. "Mark…"

"Isabeau, what the-" He had ignored Lane, pushed back from the table, and grabbed his daughter by her shoulders to stop her from heading down the hall. He had not been expecting her to come here, definitely not through the back door like she was skulking. He turned her to face him and frowned at the tears in her eyes. "What happened?"

"I'm not movin' in with Brooks." She muttered, reaching up to angrily wipe away a tear that escaped. She had come here because this was home, not her apartment, but _home_ and she had been hoping it would be somewhat comforting.

Lane waited for Mark to say something stupid, sipping her coffee and remaining out of it. She cared for Beau but she wasn't going to overstep her boundaries by being 'parental' again.

Mark did almost say something that would have probably gotten him in trouble but when he stared into those eyes that were the same color as his and seen the heartbreak, he bit his tongue instead. "C'mere, babydoll." He murmured, pulling her into his arms and hugging her tight.

Beau began crying.


	17. Not Your Business

**17: Not Your Business**

"**D**on't want to hear it Calaway."

"Brooks, what the hell happened between you and Beau?"

"None of your business, old man." Phil wasn't dealing with Mark, he had no patience right now for the veteran playing 'concerned daddy'. He grit his teeth when he felt a heavy hand clamping down on his shoulder. "I swear to God, I am going to knock your freaking teeth down your throat if you don't back the hell off!"

Mark ducked when Phil whirled around, swinging, fairly certain he would attempt the teeth knocking thing. "What'd you do?"

"Me?! What makes you think it's something I did?" Phil growled. "Ask her."

"I did."

"Didn't tell you, did she?" Phil snorted, wrenching away. "Course not, you'd flip out. _More_." He added as a sneering afterthought. "Mind your own business, Calaway. Beau doesn't need you to defend her, she's the one who messed up." He didn't necessarily mean it that way, but he was pissed so things were not going to come out right, and he wasn't taking kindly to daddy interfering. "Go talk to her about spending the night with Shane and leave me the fuck alone."

Mark let him go, his jaw dropping.

* * *

><p>"<strong>I<strong> am not a practice dummy you two!" Shane protested, not as annoyed as he sounded. He had heard through the grapevine about Beau and Phil taking a 'break', a result from last week's incident no doubt. He was practicing in the ring with Evan and Beau, both of them using him as a target to practice on. He had volunteered, citing he needed to brush off some 'dust' anyway, and it was a perfect opportunity to see how Isabeau was holding up. She seemed fine, though he knew better. She was just burying everything, making the attempt to remain professional, to focus on her career.

"Sure you are, Shane." Evan laughed, more relaxed with his boss than he probably should have been. "It's payback for that weekend in New York."

"Izzy should be paying _me_ back, what a waste." Shane sighed dramatically, smirking when Beau flashed him an exasperated look. "Sorry doll, but you know I only speak the truth."

"You're so funny, Mc-"

"Isabeau Marigold Calaway!"

"Marigold?" That all had been roared, but what Evan was taking away from it was her middle name, eyeballing her. "What kind of name is that?"

"Hippie mom and I will kill you." Beau said flatly, turning to stare over the ropes. Mark sounded like someone had pissed in his morning cornflakes and he looked about as happy too. "What'd I do now?" She asked, sighing in resignation.

Mark had to stop about ten feet from the ring when he seen Shane, under orders to remain at a distance or else charges were going to be pressed. It had felt good whipping Shane's ass but in retrospect, not his brightest move. "You and Shane spent the night together?"

Her eyes narrowed. "None of your business."

"At all." Shane added coldly, leaning over the ropes, staring at Mark. "Eventually, Calaway, you're going to have to mind your own business and stop bothering her."

"I'm going to-"

"Seriously Mark, go away, we're trying to work." Beau ordered. He had been so cool over the weekend, coddling her, not bothering her, and now… now he was back to the loving dad she knew and sometimes hated. "It's none of your damn business!"

"It is when you come cryin' and-"

"Mark, stop yelling at her!" Shane was slowly turning red.

"Don't tell me how to talk to her, McMahon! You need to stay _away_ from her."

"I'm trying to help her out, what is your deal? Jesus, don't you _want_ her to have a career not based on yours?" Shane knew exactly what those words were going to do.

Mark was heading for the ring. "I'm going to pound your head in, McMahon."

Evan was backing up. A pissed off Undertaker was never a good thing.

"And then Beau, I'm going to beat your ass for being so _stupid_."

Shane was more than a little surprised when Beau launched herself over the top rope and directly onto her father, taking him down and down hard. He dropped and rolled under the bottom rope to go pull her off Mark when she began whaling on him. She had balls, that was for sure.

All Mark could do was lie there and take it, shocked to his very core, and hurt… she had _attacked_ him. He knew their relationship was not all that great but this, this was something he never would have expected. Ever.

"Izzy, come on, enough." Shane was trying to avoid getting elbowed, gently wrapping his arms around Beau and pulling her off her now bleeding father, taking in Mark's bleeding nose and somewhat battered face. "Jesus… Isabeau…" She was going to be in some serious shit and he had a feeling there wasn't going to be anything he could do to prevent it. Though… she had been defending him, and herself… that might work, that and Mark had threatened him and violated the ten foot rule. "Go see Lane, Calaway." He ordered, not caring if Mark was hurt or not, but for appearances, he had to at least pretend. "Izzy…" He turned her towards him, staring down into her abnormally pale face. "Let me see your hands…"

Silently, she turned them, knuckle side up, to him.

Shane took in the bruising and swelling, knowing she hadn't held anything back and sighed softly. "What am I going to do with you, Isabeau?" He mused gently, gently running his thumb along a swollen knuckle.

She shrugged. "Fine and suspend me?"

"No… I think not."

Evan excused himself, walking around the ring to help security lift Mark onto his feet.

Mark could feel his left eye swelling and looked through his relatively unscathed eye, able to blearily make out the sight of Shane cupping Beau's face with one hand, the other gently holding the hand she had used to beat him with. He closed his good eye to the sight.

Evan was the only one who noticed the tear that quickly ran down the _Undertaker's _face.


	18. Friends in Low Places

**18: Friends in Low Places**

"**W**hat are you going to do now?"

Shane shrugged, not bothering to turn and look at Glenn. "Finish what I'm doing with the rookies, after that, I really don't know." He drained his bourbon and set down the tumbler, wondering just what Glenn had wanted to see him about. "You got the job, it was made formal today."

"Yeah, uh… thank you, for that." Glenn was pleased he had gotten the job, the position he had wanted that had been snatched originally by his friend. Just because he was the damn Undertaker… but… he also felt a little guilty. "Still working with Beau?"

"Yes, and Evan, and Layla, and some others." Shane turned away from the bar, wishing now he hadn't bothered opening his hotel room door. "Glenn, is there a reason you're here? I believe our business has concluded."

"Look, I get that you were pissed at Mark because of Lane, but… it looks like you and Beau are-"

"Are friends, nothing more." Shane almost believed himself, he was just that convincing. "Glenn, if there's nothing else…?"

Glenn felt his stomach do a weird flop, knowing that Shane could not be trusted but… "No, nothing."

* * *

><p>"<strong>I<strong> heard you got off with just a fine."

Beau was mildly surprised that Phil was talking to her. It had been a few weeks since he had said he needed a 'break', and about the same time since she had beaten her dad up. So far, a lot of people were treating her very weird, like she was being blackballed. Well, not John, or Layla, or Shane, but everyone else… yeah. Even Lane was treating her differently. Not mean or anything, she was just… sort of stiff. She hadn't spoken to Mark since then and he was still at home as far as she knew, taking some 'downtime'. "Yeah… pretty steep one, but… better than being fired."

He nodded, shifting from one foot to the other. "Talk to your old man since?"

"No."

"Didn't think so." He raked a hand through his hair, staring at her. "Beau… I-" He didn't know what to say. He missed her, but she hadn't cut ties with Shane. It made her look… guilty, almost. Not helped by the fact that she had gone out of her way to defend the man. "I'll talk to you later."

Beau swallowed hard as she watched him walk away.

* * *

><p>"<strong>Y<strong>ou're miserable, I'm miserable… we should go out."

"Cenana, the last time I went out with you, I wound up… well, Phil broke up with me."

"Technically, that is not my fault. That's yours for being way too sloshed." John pointed out, sighing when she glared at him. "Okay, not cool of me, I'm sorry." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her into his side and hugged her gently. "Dick move on my part, forgive me?"

"I'll consider it."

"Bobo, please?"

"Never call me that again and yes."

"Deal. Now about going out…"

"John…"

"Look, Beau, me and the old lady, we're having issues. I'm not looking for a pity party but I want a friend to keep me company." John's blue eyes, for once, were not happy and sparkly, they were filled with misery. "Please?"

Beau sighed, finally nodding. "Company only, I'm not drinking."

"I can handle that, I'll probably need a DD anyway."

* * *

><p><strong>J<strong>ohn was trashed. Beau was pretty glad she was a large, muscular girl, because she was using those muscles to haul his toasted, heavy ass around. John had lied about the pity party and she felt horrible because she was supposed to be his friend and had completely ignored the signs of his depression. His marriage sounded like it was going to Hell in a hand basket. "John, keycard…"

"In m'pants." He mumbled, swaying against her, unaware he was on the verge of toppling them both. "Thanks Bobo…"

"Yeah…" She hoped nobody walked by and seen her groping John Cena as she felt for the card, finally procuring and unlocking his door. "Don't mention it, ever." She dragged him into the room, half carrying him as he began to droop, just barely managing to get him onto his bed. "John, you drank way too much, darlin'."

John opened his eyes just a bit, staring up at her and wondered how he had gotten into a laying down position. "M'fine. Tired."

"Yeah, I bet." Beau ran a hand over his head, smiling down at him. "Get some sleep, okay?"

He nodded, eyes already closing.

Beau pushed herself back onto her feet and headed for the bathroom. She was going to be nice and leave a glass of water and bottle of aspirin on the bedside table, knowing his head was going to be killing him when he woke up. If he remembered the night, he was probably going to ignore it, nobody liked feeling like they had been down and pathetic.

She knew that for a fact.

* * *

><p>"<strong>G<strong>ot a minute Izzy?"

Given that it was two in the morning, she was tired, and talking to Shane at this hour, in a hallway, outside his room was just asking for trouble… not really. But… he was her boss and friend, so she nodded, turning towards him. "You're up late."

He laughed, holding up the freshly filled ice bucket. He had just been returning to his room when he had spotted her coming down the hall and waited outside his door. "Paperwork never ends. Want to come in for a sec?"

"Uh…"

"Just for a moment, okay?" He held the door wide open. "I'll fix you a drink if you want."

"Nah, not that kind of night." She smiled tiredly and followed him inside, against her mind's wishes. "What's up?"

Shane waited until she was past him to gently shut the door, looking her up and down. "You look exhausted, how're you holding up?"

"I'm okay."

"Your dad's not talking to you yet, is he?"

"Nope."

Shane sighed, walking over to the bar. "I know it's not my place Izzy, but he is your father…"

"Yeah, and?" She sounded a bit more curt than she meant too. "I appreciate the thought Shane but… I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright, alright." He walked back over to her, extending a glass. "Rum and coke."

She eyeballed it before shrugging and took the glass, sipping at it.

Smiling slightly, he took a drink of his own.


	19. About Last Night

**19: About Last Night**

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…"

"You said something like that last night… a lot…"

Beau was not amused and glanced over her shoulder at Shane. She did not remember going to bed with him, at all. But she sure as hell would never forget waking up in his bed, draped around him, buck-ass naked. She had dragged herself out of the bed and begun hunting up her clothing, which was all over the damn place, so was his. She had been in the process of trying to stuff both legs into one hole and muttering her favorite mantra when he had announced his state of awake. "Awkward… awkward… awkward…" New favorite mantra.

"Isabeau…" Shane sounded confused, and maybe a little awkward himself. Slowly, he stood up, wrapping the sheet around his waist and watched her. "I thought… I thought we had a great night?"

He worded that as a question, and Beau hesitated just because he sounded so confused. Almost as confused as she was feeling. "I don't remember last night!" Probably not something she should just be blurting out but… she had.

Shane's mouth dropped.

* * *

><p>Beau didn't know what to say, or to do. Shane had gone to call the cops after her outburst, ready to have everything in his bar tested. He had thrown up at least once, and she felt bad for him feeling bad. She hadn't drank anything while out with John, not alcohol anyway, she had stuck to soda pop. She had had one drink with Shane, and they both had drank from the same damn bottle… she had not let him call the police.<p>

What was she going to tell them? I think I was roofied at a club last night or something? My Pepsi came with a side of drugs? And then, then I banged my boss?

"My dad is going to murder me…" She groaned an hour later, sitting on the edge of Shane's bed, her face buried in her hands. "Phil is…" Oh that hurt, something clenched in her chest, maybe it was her heart. Phil was… he was… she couldn't even finish the thought in her own head.

Gently, Shane placed his hand on her shoulder, beginning to stroke her back soothingly. "Izzy… tell me what to do." He said softly, uncertainty in his tone. "What can I do to… to make this better?" When she began crying outright, he wrapped that arm around her, pulling her into his side and rested his head on top of hers. "Nobody has to know, okay? Not your dad, not Phil. I'm sorry this happened, I really am."

She could only manage something that might have been a nod.

* * *

><p>"Lane?"<p>

Lane had been busy going over some medical forms, loving this time of the year. Contract renewals, which meant physicals, and a lot of men to stubborn to cough. She smiled at the welcome distraction, setting down her clipboard and turned on her stool to greet Isabeau. The smile faded when she took in the young woman who could potentially, eventually, be her daughter-in-law. They hadn't spoken since that weekend Isabeau had come home after her break-up from Phil, and a lot of that had to do with the fight between Beau and Mark. Lane was trying not to get involved.

"Honey, you… what's wrong?" It was impossible to miss the tears glistening in those eyes so disturbingly similar to Mark's. Standing up, Lane walked over to shut the door, and then gently turned Beau towards her. "Beau?" Beau looked absolutely miserable, and heartbroken.

"I did something really, really stupid Lane…"

Lane suddenly wasn't sure she wanted to know.

* * *

><p>"Bobo, thanks for being my designated driver." John had woke up with a hellacious hangover. He knew drinking with the issues going on in his personal life was probably a recipe for disaster but… he had done it anyways. He had spilled his guts to her, and he was pretty sure he might've even literally spilled them on her. Maybe. He didn't remember to much after getting in the cab.<p>

"Not a problem."

Frowning, John walked ahead of her, turned so he was directly in front of her and began walking backwards, keeping her in his line of sight. "Who do I need to kill?" That was not an okay look for his bestie to be wearing.

"Nobody's…" Beau hesitated, stopping and reached out to grab him before he could backwards walk his ass right into a door. "John, did… did anything look suspicious last night, at the club?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… anyone weird? Or… maybe someone passing out something?"

These were some weird questions and John, not the most serious of guys, felt the warning bells beginning to go off in the back of his head. "Beau?"

"I… I think I might have… I think someone might've… my drink…" She was stumbling and stammering, trying to get it out.

"Who do I have to kill?" John's generally happy blue eyes were suddenly ice and his hands were on her shoulders, gripping perhaps a bit harder then he intended. "Beau, what happened last night?"

"I don't…" Beau hesitated, looking away from him, unable to meet his piercing stare. Instead, she focused her gaze on the ground, on their boots. "I don't remember, John." That was actually, mostly, the truth.

"Oh Jesus…" The implications of that alone was enough to send a lot of unpleasant feelings coursing through him. "Do… do we need to get you checked out or something?" He asked, battling both anger and awkwardness.

"No." She shook her head. She already knew where she had been. "I'm fine. I-"

"Then… what aren't you telling me?"

A lot.


End file.
